Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Saviers Road" 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 "Saviers Road" 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 "Saviers Road" 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!
Here I go again
There I go fallin' to me knees right now
Tryna get it back on my feet right now
Choppin' up the weight I don't need
Maybe I could sell it to a fiend, right now
Ay, what'chu mean?
An ounce, a quarter, a P
I would sell you faith but you niggas don't believe
Lord, forgive them for they do not
Know what they do
But God if you're listening
Yes, Lord!
I could still reach you
Ten P's in the rental truck
Trimmin' flowers in the Marriott with little cuz
Send 'em off to Arizona, let 'em build a buzz
Then get it back for triple the profit
Help 'em split it up
Ten years, been a minute, I was somewhere
Between givin' up and doin' a sentence
God, if you existin', help my momma get acquitted
If they plottin', then help me see it
Before they get the drop on me
Probably coulda been a doctor, I'm fond of optometry
Vision was like Martin Luther on the mountain peak
Valley lows, I left home for more salary
Smoke with O's across border patrol, casually
Took notes and took control of it manually
Hand to hand 'til it's white sands in the canopy
Now follow me
I'm too old to act childishly
But every now and then I park the
Beamer in the gallery
Show off the paint for spectators and the faculty
Same ol' niggas that said they proud of me
Same ol' niggas that probably doubted me
Who gon' work it out for me?
There I go fallin' to me knees right now
Tryna get it back on my feet right now
Choppin' up the weight I don't need
Maybe I could sell it to a fiend, right now
Ay, what'chu mean?
An ounce, a quarter, a P
I would sell you faith but you niggas don't believe