Lyrical Breakdown of Slave Owner - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Slave Owner" 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 "Slave Owner" 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 "Slave Owner" 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!

Hit 'em with the Jab Buddah blessed this beat Whole lotta of drip (drip) Money callin' back to back so I keep takin' trips (go get it) Spend a couple mil (yeah), just on one crib (yeah) Hold up, let me crack the seal, take another sip (pour up) Whole lotta drip (drip) Whole lotta drip (drip), whole lotta chips (baow) I'm a slave owner (what?), whole lotta whips (skrrt) I don't like niggas (nah), I might get 'em killed (bah) He like poppin' pills (thirties), I like countin' mils (ayy) She like poppin' pussy (twerk), I like throwin' paper (yeah) That boy there a pussy (swear), 'cause that nigga a hater (damn) Show up in all black (yeah), like the Undertaker (yeah) Designer everything, diamond watch and diamond ring (hey) Yeah you right, I'm such a big deal (big deal) Rolls Royce on some big wheels (uh-huh) I had to hustle for mine, bitch I'm out the field (straight out the streets) Ballin' in Chiraq like I'm coach Phil (Phil Jackson) Drop a pill in her drink like Bill (whoa) Smash her on the first night, I bet I will (uh-huh) You wanna get in this car, take off them heels (take them off) A whole truck load, I just made a deal (hey, hey) What's the business, what's the motherfuckin' word? (ayy what's poppin'?) Put a dick in your ear, fuck what you heard (haha) Another check just cleared, oh yeah (oh yeah) All that hatin' ain't gon' get you nowhere (woo) Whole lotta of drip (drip) Money callin' back to back so I keep takin' trips (go get it) Spend a couple mil (yeah), just on one crib (yeah) Hold up, let me crack the seal, take another sip (pour up) Whole lotta drip (drip) Whole lotta drip (drip), whole lotta chips (baow) I'm a slave owner (what?), whole lotta whips (skrrt) I don't like niggas (nah), I might get 'em killed (bah) He like poppin' pills (thirties), I like countin' mils (ayy) All this swag on me (whoa), got a bag on me (whoa) An eighty ball in my book bag, got a shag on me (whoa) I let my nuts hang (yeah), I gotta sag homie (yeah) I heard a fuck nigga got a price tag on me (hah) Ayy come and ask me do I really give a fuck? (hell nah) Come and ask me how much I made this month (hey) Puerto Ricans and Jamaicans, nigga pick one (yeah) Playin' with these M's, you should go and get one (uh-huh) I smoke, I drink (drink) I'm supposed to stop (damn), but fuck it 'cause I can't (ayy who that?) Met her at the bank (okay), fucked her at the penthouse (ayy) I was fucked up but I'm the shit now (it's Dolph) Whole lotta of drip (drip) Money callin' back to back so I keep takin' trips (go get it) Spend a couple mil (yeah), just on one crib (yeah) Hold up, let me crack the seal, take another sip (pour up) Whole lotta drip (drip) Whole lotta drip (drip), whole lotta chips (baow) I'm a slave owner (what?), whole lotta whips (skrrt) I don't like niggas (nah), I might get 'em killed (bah) He like poppin' pills (thirties), I like countin' mils (ayy)