Lyrical Breakdown of Falconry (feat. Meyhem Lauren & Big Body Bes) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Falconry (feat. Meyhem Lauren & Big Body Bes)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Action Bronson feat. Meyhem Lauren & Big Body Bes weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Falconry (feat. Meyhem Lauren & Big Body Bes)" 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 Action Bronson feat. Meyhem Lauren & Big Body Bes 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 Action Bronson feat. Meyhem Lauren & Big Body Bes's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Falconry (feat. Meyhem Lauren & Big Body Bes)" not only celebrates Action Bronson feat. Meyhem Lauren & Big Body Bes'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!
Yo pass me the ball fool
You better fuckin' pick me, ya
Straight the fuck up, I roof this shit
Fuckin' 360 on this pussy
I don't give a fuck
I'll kick this motherfucking ball over the fence
No shoes on
I know you see me on the TV, lookin' like a hunk of beef
When I smell your baby mama's shit dungarees
Somebody get the kid a deal he sound like me
But nah, dunny don't get down like me
The falcon flies back to the glove when I whistle
Don't try to put me in the box like a tissue
Cause I push you in the box with a pink suit
Fuck around and have some squid ink soup, bitch
(Ah man there's so much fuckin' hash in this joint right now son)
Uh, you ain't a legend like Gianni
I'm so Queens like a Roy Wilkins T-shirt
With one arm shredded, and one arm missing
Dog, I was born with a lost vision
I learned quick I couldn't follow suit
Cause the Devil put the pork inside the dollar soup
Now I'm sittin' in first class with a hard dick
Listenin' to German guitar riffs, what a life
I was made like the beginning of Jurassic Park
When they took the fucking bluff on the mosquito with a dope needle
Then they shot it in a wild lie in 1983
I popped out holdin' an iron with a visor on
Yeah, uh huh
Yo, the videos are like a Jewish summer camp promo
Your ideas lack of dope, woah
Yo, silk cinder blocks, cinnamon socks
On the low like a whip without shocks
I bag bitches in flocks
Representative for everything official
Ya'll niggas can't live, so it's officially an issue
Quarter proof penmanship, padded on a rugby
Hammerin' the hamper 'case a nigga try to thug me
I'm a idol, my wave is tidal, forget survival
Treat the last record I broke just like a rival
Uh, I'm New York before it turned into a bike lane
Never had a light fame, split the pipe cane
It was written but I wrote it
Put religion right on my neck and then I froze it
Laurenovitch, yeah
3: 36 in the morning
Location: a drug infested area, Brooklyn, New York
What am I doing? Standing on an unidentified corner
With a Latin individual, corn rows, foam posits
All sorts of a felony in his waist
But who are you? She only loves me when I'm naked