Lyrical Breakdown of TRUE - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "TRUE" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Chief Keef weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "TRUE" 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 Chief Keef 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 Chief Keef's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "TRUE" not only celebrates Chief Keef'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!
808Jack
A, L and M, I, G, H, T, Y
JD on the beats
True, true, true (Ayy, ayy)
Don't make me shoot you, you (Like bang, bang)
Like bad bitch in the room, room, room
Bitch, my car go vroom, vroom, vroom
Got an elephant in my Trues, Trues, Trues
Thousand for my shoes, my shoes, my shoes
Sosa be flexin' on these niggas, I know (Flexin', flexin')
Baby, that's the way it go (Yes, ma'am, yes, ma'am)
Go, go, go
You don't wanna give me top then go bye-bye
Got some niggas that be at your door knockin' (Bang, bang)
Fuckin' with Almighty So', not him
Baby I don't care about shit, nothin'
But countin' them Ben Franklins, countin'
84 carat diamond necklace, that's a shiner
It look like it's 'bout to take a piss, goddamn
I'm G'd up, I'm T'd up
Baby boy, you don't wanna try me, boy
Like your fuckin' father, boy, I'll beat you
When I see your bitch, boy, I'll freeze her
She call me papi
Don't care about no nigga 'cause I'm me
Get dome, then I leave
Kill that bitch, she try to set up me
That's the way it go
Tell the cops I ain't sayin' shit, radio
Try to drive by, bitch, we shootin' out the stereo
You don't want these problems, pussy, carry on
I'm with Obama up in DC
Tryna find some bitches that's gon' eat, eat
He say when Michelle trippin', he call Chief Keef
'Cause I blowed up like a motherfuckin' B-E
That bitch, whore, whore, she a whore
She call my phone then I ignore her
Like I fuckin' know her
All 'cause I'm a Glory Boy
True, true, true (Ayy, ayy)
Don't make me shoot you, you (Like bang, bang)
Like bad bitch in the room, room, room
Bitch, my car go vroom, vroom, vroom
Got an elephant in my Trues, Trues, Trues
Thousand for my shoes, my shoes, my shoes
Sosa be flexin' on these niggas, I know (Flexin', flexin')
Baby, that's the way it go (Yes, ma'am, yes, ma'am)
Go, go, go