Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Only in America (feat. Party Supplies)" 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 "Only in America (feat. Party Supplies)" 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 "Only in America (feat. Party Supplies)" 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!
Only In America
Action Bronson
I'm focused, man, I swear I'm focused. These mothafuckas don't know, I'm the mothafuckin' golden child. Uh huh
Anywhere I go, you know you're goin' with me
Bobby and Whitney without the sniffin'
Dog your bitch look like Eddie Griffin
I'm three wheelin', keep the Chevy tippin'
Big bearded Buddha bangin' bitches in Bermuda
Barry Bonds, barracuda, Chattanooga
Back alley shooter, black Balley booter
Catch me jumpin' out the plane like a black puma
Stoned, pump Depeche Mode
Man all I see is red snow
Left my man with a headstone on Edgecombe
He was goin' for the glory and the end zone
Just another sob story cause the pen's cold
Am I gonna sell my soul? That depends, ho
Man the vehicle's a rental, speak gentle
Mink sweatsuit
Stab your father while he's pissin' in the men's room
Only in America
Just can't seem to get you off of my mind
Only in America
All that seems we're goin' nowhere
Only in America
And I just can't seem to get you off my mind
[?] land of the free
All that seems we're goin' nowhere
All that seems we're goin' nowhere
All that seems we're goin' nowhere
Goin' nowhere, nowhere
NYC what the fuck is goin' on?
These mothafuckas won't play my song
They sayin' that we soft, they sayin' that we fell off
They sayin' that these other fuckers better than us, you gotta be kiddin'
A bunch of pussies, when you piss, you gotta be sittin'
You tie your hair in a bun and shirt in a knot
You got the urge to suck the cock of Serge Ibaka
Pictures of naked rappers hangin' in your locker
You and your father never played catch, he taught you how to twerk
Since I've been on the Earth I've been lightin' up
And I've been all around the world twistin' dykes and purp
Shit, light the earth