Lyrical Breakdown of P.O.P - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "P.O.P" not only celebrates Denzel Curry'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, you already know what time it is It's your boy, Zeltron, A.K.A. Big Ultra in this bitch once again You already know, we gotta hold it down for the ULTRAGROUND It's ULTRAGROUND or drown (it's a motherfuckin' mad world) It's the man, the myth they call "Big Ultra" I do this shit for the culture Do what you want, because a nigga gonna do what he 'posed to Been underground like a gopher, ay Cosa Nostra, how many of y'all want to deal with the ULTRAGROUND mafia? Niggas try to copy us, but always comes out sloppier "Original," nigga, you pitiful, couldn't be like me if we were identical twins Mary Kate and Ashley, you pussy motherfuckers couldn't be in my ears Carol City to be exact, Blackland where my niggas at (Blackland) Paranoia on my brain, I got from P, I keep a strap All my haters take offense, all they hoes gon' ride the dick (ride the dick) All my fans gon' make me rich, as long as they gon' bump my shit (bump my shit) Paper over pussy, bitch, paper over pussy, bitch Paper over pussy, bitch, you know I don't like to pay for shit All my haters take offense (ride), all they hoes gon' ride the dick (ride) All my fans gon' make me rich, as long as they gon' bump my shit Paper over pussy, bitch, paper over pussy, bitch Paper over pussy, bitch, you know I don't like to pay for shit Nah, I ain't givin' no attitude, don't be actin' rude (what?) Talkin' out loud and you neck to who? (Nah) I'm respectful too, be respectin' me That's the formula, baby, the recipe And it's the honor roll, so don't be testin' me I got all A's, on-and-off the G's Ammunition, the Glock, and a lot of P's Niggas started out from sellin' L.B.'s Then I graduated to some other thangs Then the money came, then your honey came But that's another thang Gotta move a lil' different with hella fame Got to dodge all them suckers and niggas hate If the glove fittin', know I'm Gary Payton And we gon' steal his songs 'til I've don' the same Pray about it, smoke some head 'bout it Then I'ma go on with my day about it ULTRAGROUND, I never play about it But it's, "Don't fold," 'til my body cold Never need the luck to find a pot of gold (whoa) Just a heavy hustle and a list of goals (whoa, whoa) You niggas still runnin' 'round, chasin' hoes That's just how it goes, personally, I could never though I'ma always be focused on paper, ho All my haters take offense, all they hoes gon' ride the dick All my fans gon' make me rich, as long as they gon' bump my shit Paper over pussy, bitch, paper over pussy, bitch Paper over pussy, bitch, you know I don't like to pay for shit All my haters take offense, all they hoes gon' ride the dick All my fans gon' make me rich, as long as they gon' bump my shit Paper over pussy, bitch, paper over pussy, bitch Paper over pussy, bitch, you know I don't like to pay for shit Pap, jay pap, jay pap She got a-, uh She got a job that you bought her I'm hangin' her off of a string, piñata How much have I made off of my ding? A lotta From strippers, to lawyers To queens and models This pimpin' full throttle I'm Tokyo driftin' the bitch 'til it wobble Left finger is twitchin', I'm itchin' to squabble You niggas gon' dance, it's so cold with a bottle You know I'ma stunt, and these hoes is around me Fuck Olive Garden, these roses around me Self-drive Cullinan, while I'm over the county So hop over the fence, I'm not over the bounty Leavin' 'em dirty and holdin' it downy Further we drippin', it's only astounding She not a dancer, but pole is around me, haters is frownin' LV button up, catch me with Donald Trump and a double cup Left, right, down, square, that's an uppercut No Yeat, got the bitch a Tonka truck Skeet, skeet, got the whole back covered up Drop a top, right price on some earrings Left hand b-ball, right batter beam Ain't no alphabet, but the letter P, ooh-wee All my haters take offense, all they hoes gon' ride the dick All my fans gon' make me rich, as long as they gon' bump my shit Paper over pussy, bitch, paper over pussy, bitch Paper over pussy, bitch, you know I don't like to pay for shit All my haters take offense, all they hoes gon' ride the dick All my fans gon' make me rich, as long as they gon' bump my shit Paper over pussy, bitch, paper over pussy, bitch Paper over pussy, bitch, you know I don't like to pay for shit Yeehaw You know what I'm talkin' 'bout? Y'all better not panic, this shit organic There's my money left hangin'