Lyrical Breakdown of Nana - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Chance the Rapper feat. Action Bronson weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Nana" 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. 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 Chance the Rapper feat. Action Bronson's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Nana" not only celebrates Chance the Rapper feat. 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!

Na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na Introducin' Chance the Ruthless, trip 'shrooms and lucy Dreams is lucid, loosely based on music, swallow my mucus Hope your pussy get herpes and yo' ass get lupus Deuces douches, deuce, deuce I'll shoot ya (Bang) Shoes might boot cha and a suit might suit cha' They be on bullshit but they really don't do shit The use of illusion, could confuse Confuscius Nasty, ashy, cigarette ashing, 'til my voice get raspy Last week suspended, last night kissed Va$htie Parleyed with Ashley, always in the hallway So I never been classy (Hahaha) Shut up Na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na (Aah, aah, aah, aah!) Acid acid, get it? Acid Melts through plastic, I spit fired Pad my palette, talkin' paper If this was work, I'd get higher-ed Pardon my mishaps, burp and get murdered Fart and get bitch-slapped, like Bourbon mixed with jack Lickety-split, lickety-slipped on a shell From peelin' banana-split backs, give me my Kit-Kat Don't break me off shit, batch, fack is you mean bitch? Xan with that lean bitch, zan with that lean bitch Zen with that chakra, I eat it like Idi Amin Ya know what I mean, hit me back when that mean shit (Shut up) Na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na (Aah, aah, aah, aah!) Now, now, now, now Introducin', It's Bronsonlino With my hair slicked back, I look like Rick Pitino Three Japanese dykes in my El Camino (Haha) Lettin' trees blow, oh, I rep the East Coast I got a team of hoes like Pat Summit I look like Arnold Schwarzenegger in a black hummer (Get to the chopper) I splash summer like a fast brother, with a number on his back Ain't no fumblin', in fact, I'm back, acid in my hat Shoot then pass the gat, it's at the bottom of the river in a plastic bag My new shawty got a gymnastic back Eighty seven emerald green on a classic jag, uh She had the cleft palate, I ordered chef's salad (Okay) She had the club foot (What else?), with that little arm (Hahaha) I couldn't help but laugh, she ordered Chicken Parm I had the full Bulls warm-up with the Pippens on, it's me (Ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne) Suck my motherfucking dick, it's the young Randy Velarde Queens, baby (Ah, ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne)