Lyrical Breakdown of LIQUID - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "LIQUID" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how BROCKHAMPTON weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "LIQUID" 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 BROCKHAMPTON 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 BROCKHAMPTON's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "LIQUID" not only celebrates BROCKHAMPTON'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!
I grew up all alone, my mom and dad fightin'
I moved around a lot, I did a lot of fightin'
I met my friend Ian, I seen a lot of cyphers
I did a lot of writin'−
Watch my uncles duck indictments
I'm used to ramen noodles, victims of mental illness
Products of neighborhoods with broken souls and wounded spirits
Don't judge me by appearance (I moved to California)
Started gettin' paid (Nigga, you broke,) shit's already borin'
Dashin' to the money like a hyphen
Fuck a pipe dream, man, had this shit when I was in my diapers
Burnin' through my diapers, hot shit
It was hot shit, back when niggas lookin' for the Loch Ness
Stuck 'round dip spittin' assholes, make they mamas bashful
Got holes in my pockets so my shoes full of cash though
Cigar, Fidel Castro, car full of Castrol
See the sunset when I backstroke, can't swim but I could act though
I was playin' rock paper scissors with imaginary friends
Imagine havin' no friends, ay
I was playin' rock paper scissors with imaginary friends, ay
Imagine havin' no friends, man
I was playin' rock paper scissors with imaginary friends
Imagine havin' no friends, man... ay, ay
Imagine havin' no friends, man