Lyrical Breakdown of Baseline - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Danny Brown weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Baseline" 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 Danny Brown 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 Danny Brown's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Baseline" not only celebrates Danny Brown'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!

Ho, the only thing you gotta know My dick touch the ground when I'm sittin' on the floor You think I'm gon' fall off? I got advice for ya holmes Fall asleep in your car In your garage with the engine on I'm playing ping pong with your bitch jaw You the type to have a sing-a-long in Superman drawls I got the redhead ho I call her Molly Ringwald She like to take a lot of Molly And bring Adderall Sipping white wine 'til the sunset Before it got dark she already got naked Necked her for a second Then she got reckless Rump shaker, wrecks and FX'd it Bum stickity bum stickity bum Das EFX Shit Left her bum sticky Fell asleep on the terrace Me on the beat, that's a hate crime With black ink, I murder white lines Baseline What's with all the ho shit? Your flow's atrocious The amount of weed I smoke is copious Eyes red like Soviet Dog, you're on some bogus shit These novice poets are not my associates Ferocious; but the flows inappropriate But if you approach this they might call encroachment I'm so bent, oh shit Got your bitch soakin' I ain't Clarence Carter But bitch I be Strokin' Ho, are you outta your mind? I tell a bitch like this, "You are not that fine" I don't give a bitch shit No, not a dime But bitch, for you, I ain't even got time The sunshine in the thunder storm Catching clouds smelling like the green giant underarm I can never cop her holmes I just give her Sutter Homes Nut all on her butt Wipe it up, then I send her home Baseline