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Lyric Evaluation

Page history last edited by Brad 2 yrs ago

Lyric Evaluation

 

While I was in Middle School, my family took a trip to Dallas, TX. We stayed in a hotel there, and the first night I found myself relegated to the floor and unable to sleep. As a music lover from a young age, I got out my Walkman radio and started to scan the stations. I stopped short when I heard this:

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The song was U.N.L.V.'s "Drag 'Em 'N' Tha River," and it was the scariest thing I had ever heard.

[Yella]

You fake cheerleadin' bitch! You want a nigga like me to beware, ha?

I'ma show you some spokes right now, you bitch you

 

[Tec-9]

Take them braids out his head Yella

 

[Chorus]

I'ma drag him from tha river dump his body in Chuck's yard

Leavin' a note around his neck readin' BAD ASS YELLA BOY

Oooooh he wants some? Ain't that cold?

YOUS A HOE MYSTIKAL

YOUS A HOE MYSTIKAL

See I'm from the 3 and I don't give a fuck

And I know you thought I wouldn't be back but you can't keep me down

Don't forget about the U and the Cash Money Clowns

 

[Yella]

I'm from the 3 and I don't give a fuck, for the record

Once again it's Mystikal with the Chuck's

I'm back up on the scene with the 2 like a Viper

Get in so much war I think Im straighter than a sniper

Mystikal you bitch, are you ready for the drama?

Told your hoe ass people hoe don't run I'll kill Mama

If I catch ya wit your draws down I'ma do ya

Once upon a time I up the roof and gimme the cruiser

 

[Chorus]


[Yella]

I be the jack of all trades don't make me splizit, your fuckin' head

The queen I mean the King , I mean he learned many trades

Comin' to get'cha round the pen, ready to unwrap your braids

Gay blade, now what'cha wanna do? My nuts you can chew

Because they told me you wanted to battle

Told em you better scaddattle

You ain't bout no B-1 Doctor show, don't make me bust you up

Gra'ze the left, the uppercut, the roundhouse, sidestep,roll-o

Let go of my shirt you hoe, bloods up on my polo

 


[Chorus]

 

[Yella]

Stop playin' with me, stop playin' with me bitch, stop playin' with me

I'm like the B.G.'z I'm gat totin'

By this time it's the bulldog barrel smokin'

I hope they catch and chop ya down, tear ya ass apart

Thrash all the swine touch down your brains on the ground

I gots the gat spell it backwards,

that's what I do up on that ass ya bitch I'm not an actor

I'm comin' dumpin' on ya fake punk wannabe

I warned ya too many times to watch the bloody tragedy

I got the diamonds to the bauds, twinkle up your golds

Now spin the bin, in the turtleneck polo cuz I don't care

Fuck what you sayin' about beware

I'm tired of tellin' you that I'm a donkey nigga,

Stop playin'

 

[Chorus]


[Yella]

I'm in the front room, in the whirlaround, the brown table

Are you able? Capable? All of a sudden, um...

I had to pop em, I had to pop em

I top em authority, respect is what I need

Hollow tips in the clips just to make your ass bleed

I'ma drop this pussy with the braids off see

I'ma dump his body in Chuck's yard, UNLV

I told this Mr. Cheerleader not to fuck with me

I told ya to keep my fuckin' name out ya fuckin' mouth

You didn't do it now it's time to take your ass out

 

[Chorus]

 

[Yella]

I gets lowdown and dirty with the 30 30

Because I'm in your neighborhood plus my nose dirty

I'm into Chuck's house, off deliverin' the bad luck

As I spin the bin with speed, it's too late to duck

I'm like Jim Harbaugh, puffin' on a hot Marlboro

I'm strictly with that asshole and comin' to down ya far

Why did I ask would I please leave ya alone ya see?

I caught my enemies slippin' gettin' groceries

I waits behind the mailbox like an old drunkard,

As Archie Bunker, comfortable? You bitch you

You see I walk by, I ride by, I drive by too

I got's to hang a .45 and a AP-9 too

 

 

[Chorus] (4X)

Not only were the verses ultra-violent, but the incredibly raw sounds were more than intimidating. The music sent a surge of fear and adrenaline rushing through my body (we wonder why and how in Gut Musicology). The combination of the New Orleans staple "Amen" drum break, the baseline of creole bounce music, the crude vocal sample, and the creepy synth line took the words of the song to another level. I was instantly transported to the 3rd Ward of New Orleans, feeling like I had somehow become interpolated into their culture through the mash-up of sounds. I also feared for my life. The interesting idea at work here, and what dasinated me at the time, is how my body could be in a room with my whole family asleep around me, but my mind could be in the grimy underbelly of the 3rd Ward, with people who I had never met. And how all of those feelings be transmitted thrugh radio waves?

 

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