Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Latin Grammys" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Latin Grammys" 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Latin Grammys" not only celebrates undefined'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!
Yeah, yeah, yeah (aah-ooh)
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
You take steps to get to the sex, I just flex (ah)
Like Lex, dance moves with the pecs (ah, pecs)
It be like, "Damn, that man smooth like a Corvette" (Goddamn man)
Vroom, vroom through the set, who's next to get suplexed?
Suplex City, bitch (yeah)
Suplex City, bitch (ah)
Suplex City, bitch (ah)
Suplex City, bitch
You know the vibe, your boy been immortalized
Yellow M5, glide like water slide (oh, so true)
Black trench like the 'taker (you know me)
Black tint so they can't make us (the fucking Undertaker)
I fly the plane better than Tom Cruise
Drive cars like Dale Sr. With my feet up
Lotus pose like Shiva on the floor
For the fight with my seat next to Jeter
I told that motherfucker roll the weed up (true, damn), please
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
My new shit, only for Dolphins
Then let the slammer off like Dolph Lundgren
You know the Bronco starts howling once the light dims
And he ain't stoppin' 'til the night ends
So go ahead with your pitty pat
My swimming trunks hold fifty racks
Don't make me hit you with the Diddy dance
I carved a hundred skulls into the handle of the mini-Mac
Your boy keeps acid in his sack, daddy
Been hot since miggity, miggity, miggity Mac daddy
And that's a long time
And I could care less what a motherfucker sayin'
And that's no lie
Bitch, I'm living la vida loca
Yellow grove, figaro, choke me
Laughing in the mirror like the Joker with the Oakleys
My whole team out for dead presidents like Bokeem
It's young baklava, you know me, yeah
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
Yeah, I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
Yeah
Bamm bam, baklavizzy
Flushing, Queens shit (gimme dat, gimme dat, gimme dat)
Seventy, seventy