Lyrical Breakdown of Missing You - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Missing You" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Chance the Rapper weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Missing You" 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 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's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Missing You" not only celebrates Chance the Rapper'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!
In the real world, these just people with ideas
In the real world, these just people with ideas
In the real world, these just people with ideas
In the real world, these just people with ideas
That shit cray, that shit dead
That shit fake, blast a kid
Cassius Clay at his head
Atta boy, atta kid
I'ma need a napkin, cook 'em up
And he gon' need an Aspirin, hook him up
Niggas was busy scrappin', put 'em up
I was too busy rapping, good as fuck
Niggas don't act like grown ups when niggas don't get to grow up
Niggas don't wanna throw hands, that's what made me wanna throw up
But these young gunners ain't nothin' but young stunners
And niggas see you as come ups, so niggas just wanna run up
Niggas asking what up, I said on my soul I'm a hundred
My niggas stay in the low end, the others stay in the hundreds
My daddy throw me the hands, and my momma told me to love 'em
My neighbors told me they hunting, I hope I make it through summer
They stole one of my niggas, I should have seen that one coming
My priest told me it's angels, my niggas told me it's nothing
I'm thinking about my nigga he thinking before he die
I'm going to war with fate and I'm going to war with God
I'm burning up all the papers 'cause all the reporters lied
I call him my lil' homie, he bought him a .45
Brown boys are dying and none of 'em were for business
And all of 'em love they mommas and all of they mommas miss 'em
And this shit is just stupid, this shit is just fucking senseless
The news shouldn't support it, this shit is getting expensive
I don't know why I sleep with my eyes wide
Hoping that I find you
And I don't know why I sleep with my eyes wide
Hoping that I find you
(And now for something completely different)
And I don't know why I sleep with my eyes wide
Hoping that I find you
And hoping that I find you
I been hoping that I find you
We're missing you
We're missing you
We're missing you
We're missing you
I'm missing you
In the real world, these just people with ideas
In the real world, these just people with ideas (I'm missing you)
In the real world, these just people with ideas