Lyrical Breakdown of dreamin - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "dreamin" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Cordae weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "dreamin" 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 Cordae 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 Cordae's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "dreamin" not only celebrates Cordae'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!
Yeah, word
I got a story to tell
Yeah, ay, check it
Ayo, ayo
My mom had once tried out for American Idol
I was eight years old, back home, feelin' entitled
Went to school the next day, eyes gleamin' with hope
Plottin' on the J's I'd get when she finally blows
Watchin' MTV Cribs, you know, the spin-off for kids
I just knew when she won, that's just how we would live
Grandma babysittin' us, paper plates in the kitchen
I was heartbroken when she didn't make the audition
Next mornin' filled with gloom, back to regular life
My dreams of bein' a rich kid would finally die
Fuck workin' hard, nigga, boy, I'm tryna be fly
Hand-me-downs from my cousin, these ain't even my size
Fuck writin' a verse with a sweet 16
I'm tryna be on MTV for my sweet 16
Rev. Run elder son got a Lambo for his
They makin' fun of my shacks, I can't handle this shit
Back to mom's dream-chasin'
I used to cry when she'd leave for the studio when we lived in East Aiken
Another demo that was shopped around and ain't make it
So then I started writin' in that basement, it went like
It went like
It went like
It went like
Yeah
Ayo, my mom had once tried out for Making The Band
She made it to the third episode, was takin' a stand
You know the season where Puff made 'em run six miles?
Now look what happened to Puff, crazy how it work out
It take me back to the days, I'm sittin' up on the couch
Still countin' my blessings, Uncle John watchin' Westerns
Headphones in, my pen game steadily progressin'
This lil' hobby of mine had turned into an obsession
Now, this is back in '06, now I'm back in '05
Mama had to choose between her dreams and keepin' a job
I said, "Mama, maybe you should make a dancin' song"
She said, "Son, that type of music don't last too long"
Dream deferred, meanwhile, my dreams is worse
Explicit bars, but I swore I wrote the cleanest verse
Fast-forward, I'm 15 and got the biggest plans
I'll make it big since my mama didn't get the chance
Nigga, that's real