Lyrical Breakdown of 6 Summers - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "6 Summers" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Anderson .Paak weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "6 Summers" 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 Anderson .Paak 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 Anderson .Paak's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "6 Summers" not only celebrates Anderson .Paak'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!

Wait a minute! Trump's got a love child and I hope that bitch is buckwild I hope she sip Mezcal, I hope she kiss señoritas and black gals I hope her momma's El Salv', I hope her poppa stick around, yeah Take chains off, take rings off Bracelets and things, big aches and pains My jack rang off with clickbait Truth is too raw, it's a fish plate Fela, the kunte A hunnid and fifty of us on the big stage? How long it took a nigga just to get paid? And now I think I'm 'bout to buy a Bentley, pronto I'm in LA with the shaker and bongo I heard your tape, do or die, it was compo- Trimmin' the bream with the blade and lawnmow' Figure it out, nigga Bitch, don't spill my sake You gon'make me kick you out this 'partment You gon' have to kick it in the lobby Damn, but don't somebody stop me, I'm too sloppy Trump's got a love child and I hope that bitch is buckwild I hope she sip Mezcal, I hope she kiss señoritas and black gals I hope her momma's El Salv', I hope her poppa stick around, yes, Lord The revolution will not be televised But it will be streamed live In 1080p on your pea-brain head in the face ass mobile device Alright? This shit gon' bang at least six summers From out that rock you been under Mummy wrapped, duffel bag, gutter bunny It's hard to stomach cold murder It's easier to get a nine millimeter He was 19 with a burner, they had to off 'em (Off 'em) Reform, reform shoulda came sooner (Sooner) Wait a minute! This shit gon' bang for at least six summers (Summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers) Word! This shit gon' bang for at least six summers But ain't shit gon' change for at least three summers They tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother Pop-pop-pop goes the shooter Reform, reform shoulda came sooner Come on This shit gon' bang at least six summers Pop the top, that bitch hot than a motha We need more peace and less lone gunners Put down your heat and smoke marijuanas Pop the lock off your muzzle Niggas is dyin' like lost files in the shuffle We know you lyin', my nigga, naw, we don't trust you We know you buy to sell it back to the public 'Cause there's money to made in the killin' spree That's why he tryna start a war on the Twitter feed Somebody take this nigga's phone, is you kiddin' me? Take them AKs up outta these Inner City streets This shit gon' bang for at least six summers But ain't shit gon' change for at least three summers They tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother Pop-pop-pop goes the shooter Reform, reform shoulda came sooner And so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain Get the Coltrane and the Cobain And so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain Get the Coltrane and the Cobain Dear Mr. President, it's evident that you don't give a damn Shi- tell me somethin' that I don't know All this fuckin' evidence and if it ever make it to the stand Shi- you know they gon' let 'em go, bro You was overseas stealin' niggas' land and oil Billy copped the Desert Eag' and it's legal to tote it Lil' nigga bullied out his Pumas But why he have to shoot the whole school up? And so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain Get the Coltrane and the Cobain And so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain Get the Coltrane and the Cobain This shit gon' bang at least six summers (Summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers) Word! This shit gon' bang for at least six summers But ain't shit gon' change for at least three summers They tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother Pop-pop-pop goes the shooter Reform, reform shoulda came sooner