Lyrical Breakdown of Blac Loccs - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Blac Loccs" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Young Dolph weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Blac Loccs" is a testament to masterful songwriting.
• Rhyme and Rhythm Analysis: Our Lazyjot editor highlights the ingenious use of multi-syllabic rhymes and the rhythm pattern that Young Dolph employs. Understand the construction of each verse and how it contributes to the song's overall impact.
• Syllable Pattern Insights: Dive deeper into the structural elements of the lyrics. See how the syllable count varies across the song, adding a unique rhythm and flow to Young Dolph's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Blac Loccs" not only celebrates Young Dolph's artistic prowess but also serves as an educational tool for aspiring songwriters. If this analysis inspires you and you'd like to see your own songs analyzed in this way, join the Lazyjot community. Register at Lazyjot and start exploring the full potential of your lyrical creativity. Turn your thoughts into rhymes and your rhymes into songs with Lazyjot!

Uh, uh, uh, uh Let the band play Hah Yeah Black locs on so I don't see nobody I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me (ay) Late night I'm just riding (ay) Caught myself thinking 'bout my grandma and started crying (damn) Fuck these diamonds (fuck that shit!) What I'm supposed to do when I come from drugs and violence? (yeah, yeah) What you suppose to do when she see me in that coupe sliding (yeah, yeah) In my hood we hit the gas when we hear sirens (skrrt) You weren't raised like me, shut the fuck up and be quiet (for real though) Fell asleep on your bitch she say "Youe so childish" (my bad) Dapper Dan hit me, said, "Young nigga, you too stylish" (gracias) I told them just when you need a stylist (stylist) I'm South Memphis, kicking big boy cow shit Black locs on so I don't see nobody I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me Bla-Black locs on so I don't see nobody (I don't see nobody) I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me Yeah, yeah, late night on the E-way sliding I looked down at my wrist and that bitch said "Perfect timing" Yuh, I've been grinding (grinding), yuh, I been grinding (grinding) Now a nigga shining 'cause these Benjamins keep on piling (yeah) Up, playing with this paper, fuck round, got a paper cut Glock run in a McLarlen, FN in my tux, yuh Bands in my pants, got my shits 'bout to bust Got some bands I ain't touched, I think the shit collectin' dust Cartier is on my face, I flood it with some diamonds I get high everyday, I wake up skydiving Money tall is what you say, you niggas be lying (liar) It's the middle of the day, I'm sipping and I'm driving with some- Black locs on so I don't see nobody I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me Bla-black locs on so I don't see nobody (I don't see nobody) I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me