Lyrical Breakdown of No Heart - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "No Heart" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how 21 Savage weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "No Heart" 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 21 Savage 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 21 Savage's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "No Heart" not only celebrates 21 Savage'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!
Young Savage, why you trappin' so hard?
Why these niggas cappin' so hard?
Why you got a 12 car garage?
Why you pullin' all these rappers cards?
Cause these niggas pussy and I'm hard
I turn that fucking soft into some hard
I grew up in the streets without no heart
I'm praying to my Glock and my card
I sit back and read like Cat in the Hat
21 Savage, the cat with the MAC
21 Savage not Boyz N The Hood but I pull up on you, shoot your ass in the back
Stuart Little, heard these niggas some rats
Pockets full of cheese, bitch I got racks
I'm a real street nigga bitch
I am not one of these niggas bangin' on wax
Pussy niggas love sneak dissing 'til I pull up on 'em, slap 'em out with the fire
Wet your mama's house, wet your grandma's house, keep shootin' until somebody die
So many shots the neighbor looked at the calendar, thought it was Fourth of July
You was with your friends playing Nintendo, I was playin' 'round with that fire
Seventh grade I got caught with a pistol, sent me to Pantherville
Eighth grade started playin' football, then I was like fuck the field
Ninth grade I was knocking niggas out, nigga like Holyfield
Fast forward nigga, 2016 and I'm screaming fuck a deal
Bad bitch with me, she so thick, I don't even need a pill
I listen to your raps, thought you was hard
You ain't even street for real
Niggas love sneak dissing on twitter
They don't want beef for real
And all these niggas play like they tough
'till a nigga get killed
'till a nigga get spilled, 'til your blood get spilled
I'ma at your favorite rapper, shoot him like I'm John Dill'
"I been with you since day one, Savage I ain't even hating"
So what's up with all that instagram shit?
"Savage I was just playin'"
Y'all pussy niggas fakin', bitch I hang around them Haitians
Pull up on you, tie your kids up
Pistol whip you while your bitch naked
"Come on man, Savage you know I always play your mixtape"
Yeah nigga fuck all that, ask your bitch how my dick tastes
Young Savage, why you trappin' so hard?
Why these niggas cappin' so hard?
Why you got a 12 car garage?
Why you pullin' all these rappers cards?
Cause these niggas pussy and I'm hard
I turn that fucking soft into some hard
I grew up in the streets without no heart
I'm praying to my Glock and my card
So much dope that it broke the scale
They say crack kills, nigga my crack sells
My brother in the kitchen and he rappin' a bale
Louis V my bag and Louis V on my belt
Chain swangin', diamonds blangin', hold up
Pistol swangin', gang bangin', hold up
Niggas actin' like groupies, they don't know us
Little do they know their bitches fuckin' on the tour bus
Young Savage, why you trappin' so hard?
Why these niggas cappin' so hard?
Why you got a 12 car garage?
Why you pullin' all these rappers cards?
Cause these niggas pussy and I'm hard
I turn that fucking soft into some hard
I grew up in the streets without no heart
I grew up in the streets without no heart
So much dope that it broke the scale
They say crack kills, nigga my crack sells
My brother in the kitchen and he rappin' a bale
Louis V my bag and Louis V on my belt