Lyrical Breakdown of Ninety One - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Ninety One" 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 "Ninety One" 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 "Ninety One" 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!
They say Bronson disappeared like the AIDS from Magic Johnson's dick
Truth be told, I've been rehearsing for a role, but (Roles)
Daddy back, the Cadillac could fit like
Eighty Shaqs, eleven baby MACs, five Scud missiles
Let the cocodrillo tongue-kiss you (Mwah)
You meet the afterlife with one whistle, you and whoever run wit' you
Someone'll have to come and get but they can't
'Cause you'll turn to ketchup
While I'm chillin' eating speca (Peppers)
Pickled vinegar, your bitch look like Forest Whitaker
In the movie where he played the general
Every ocean is my fuckin' swimming pool
If this wave's breaking on the shore I'm swimming through
Land Rover 110, Beluga blue
Never been polluted with the flu (Nope)
Press the pedal of the Porsche with no shoe, diamond-studded horseshoe
Your pussy sweeter than corn soup
Everyday I wake up to the tender sound of war flute
Catch me on tour, boo
(I got love)
(Avatar!)
Ninth inning, they call me wild thing (Wild thing)
Gotta understand, baby, the boy Bronson on some X-Files thing
They showed my face on the screen at the garden
Everybody scream (Ahh!) - that shit's retarded, I'm just an artist
Now the speedboat like thirty-seven feet long
Everybody got loafers on
My shawty saying that I should sleep more (No)
Tell that chick to take a detour, I need to hit the streets more
I need to see more, jump in and out the orange Z4s
That's zero G-force, motherfucker
Your money smaller than a seahorse (Small)
You never even had a conversation with the street boss
(I got love)
Shit, the fuck happened?