Lyrical Breakdown of Everybody's Something - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Chance the Rapper feat. Saba & BJ The Chicago Kid weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Everybody's Something" 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 Chance the Rapper feat. Saba & BJ The Chicago Kid 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 Chance the Rapper feat. Saba & BJ The Chicago Kid's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Everybody's Something" not only celebrates Chance the Rapper feat. Saba & BJ The Chicago Kid'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!

Ladies loving my music is like some sex shit Niggas trying to grip up my mic like it's a dick (On the mic like it's a dick) Run around the corner to pick up the new shit (The shit) Toss this in the deck so niggas can catch rep Ladies loving my music is like some sex shit Niggas trying to grip up my mic like it's a dick (Ne,ne,ne,ne) Run around the corner to pick up the new shit (The shit) Toss this in the deck so niggas can catch rep What's good, good? And what's good, evil? And what's good, gangstas? And what's good, people? And why's God phone die every time that I call on Him? If his son had a Twitter if one day I would follow Him Swallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon Keep all them sentiments down to a minimum Studious Gluteus Maxim models is sending him Pics of they genitalia tallied up ten of 'em I slurped too many pain-kills, down I'm off a lot I got a lot off days but it ain't often that I'm off the clock Ya Kna Wha Mean, I got the Chicago Blues We invented rock before the Stones got through We just aiming back cause the cops shot you Buck buck bang bang, yelling "Fuck Fox News!" Booyaka buckle up, mothafuck opps too Ain't no knuckling up 'em young cause it just not cool Nice to see you Father New Year Middle finger Uncle Samuel Shooting death with weighted dice And hitting stains on birthday candles I know somebody, somebody loves my ass Cause they help me beat my demons ass Everybody's somebody's everything I know you right Nobody's nothing That's right Everybody's somebody's everything I know you right Nobody's nothing That's right Everybody's somebody's everything That's right Nobody's nothing (Nobody's nothing) Right? Know you're right I used to tell hoes I was dark light or off white But I'd fight if a nigga said that I talk white And both my parents was black But they saw it fit that I talk right With my drawers hid but My hard head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite But gravity had me up in a submission hold Like I'm dancing with the Devil with two left feet and I'm pigeon toed In two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole And two missing toes But it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe Nice to see you Father New Year Middle finger Uncle Samuel Shooting death with weighted dice And hitting stains on birthday candles I know somebody, somebody loves my ass Cause they help me beat my demons ass Like Cassius ducking the draft and now the fight is over The type to love from a distance not the type that told her Spent three days on the rap, trash it and type it over With babies on the block under arms like fighting odors Coppers and quotas Hold ya head like 2Pac had taught Obviously they are on a come up With better chances tobogganing in the fucking summer Concoctions for the bad days and a condom for the good ones All odds against we tryna get lucky Doper than Lucky You're ending happy that's only a tugging Like Satan masturbating shit come hot But y'all still love me ugh How father time a deadbeat Maybe I'm adopted That'll explain why all of my shit been so timeless, uuugh Everybody's somebody's everything Nigga Nobody's nothing Nigga Everybody's somebody's everything Nigga Nobody's nothing, at all WuTang Everybody's somebody's everything That's right Nobody's nothing (Nobody's nothing) I know you're right?