Lyrical Breakdown of Dmtri - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Dmtri" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how Action Bronson weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Dmtri" 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 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's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Dmtri" not only celebrates Action Bronson'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!

Knock, knock it out the box, Bronson Knock, knock it out the box, Bronson Yeah, uh, knock, knock it out the box, Bronson Bitch I'm a superhero, I wasn't born with dinero Somehow I turned into Deniro Just give me one shot at the lead role You'll be amazed, like the first time you seen snow Down in Georgia on the Peach Grove I shoot ninety-five percent from the free throw Sixty from the field, strange sex appeal The lone gunman, muffle the shotty with an old onion This is no fun, never low funds, man, fuckin' crazy, uh You must be out your mind Back with a vengeance Black MAC lookin' like Janet with extensions I'm back on the bench presses, put the Audi in a red dress Make ten lefts, I lost fifty on the Mets, I'm a mess After practice hit the steps bitch That's what I gotta do to be the best shit Man these motherfuckers sleepin' While Bronson bangin' pots and pans Gotta understand these fake fucks are not your mans Me, disappear, where? I'm right here Creepin' in the cold nights air To get on my level take fifty light-years My jewelry boxes like the habitat for white bears After I'm finished in the sauna I jump into some freezing cold water Shake it like I'm reading from the Torah I'm 'bout to tat a skull on my skull Hangin' from a snake's mouth comin' out a pyramid Now I'm at the steakhouse gettin' dirty looks Guess I shoulda wore a different shirt Poppin' wheelies on the Harley down 53rd Break the guitar on your head after my solo shit I coulda been in Guns N' Roses dolo, bitch Got the Box Chevy jumpin' like a pogo stick Don't you motherfuckers know that I'm the logo kid? Uh Yeah, don't you motherfuckers know that I'm the logo Like Jerry West and Teddy Ballgame I don't wear Balmain, swing the ball and chain executioner style Dirty mountain tiger to the face Better strap up, I'm 'bout to see space As I entered, I felt everything was centered Oh shit, I think I'm back in the placenta But then I woke up in a Nissan Sentra In the parking lot of Queens Center, uh (Don't hurt me baby) My grandparents learned English watchin' Martin, uh, ha yeah My grandparents learned English watchin' Martin, it's me, uh Wild immigrants, my grandparents learned English watchin' Martin Knock, knock, knock 'em out the box, Bronson Knock, knock 'em out the box, Bronson Knock, knock 'em out the box, Bronson Knock 'em out the box, Bronson Yeah, uh, it's me, motherfucker That's a ill vision That's pretty fucked up It sounds so bad, like the dog pound is runnin' through his bitch (He's walkin') They all had their sneakers on, fuckin' fakin'