Lyrical Breakdown of Levels - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Levels" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how DJ Drama weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Levels" 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 DJ Drama 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 DJ Drama's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Levels" not only celebrates DJ Drama'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!
Man all you pussy niggas drive me crazy
Make me sick to my stomach, I feel nauseated
All you haters hold hands and
Jump off a building
I could still taste her pussy, memorabilia
Backpack full of artillery, one me
No equivalent
These niggas acting like lil bitches
I don’t understand this shit
Like you scribbled it
Took her clothes, step back and exhibit it
Then tear her ass up like a parking ticket
The end of the road is at walking distance
Have to get that blood off my hands
Left the faucet drippin
In yo face like a airbag in a car collision
My weed man so consistent i’m stayin rich
Tryin not to make poor decisions
Everything I do I plan it
Out like a solar system
Nigga if you clumsy you gon slip
And fall a victim to me
Your bitch is sendin' naked pictures to me
Then she shoot over to my house
I scoot over in a bed
I shoot off in her mouth then
She bit the bullet uh
Skatin on em like I’m Lil Wayne
And the weed so strong I can feel veins
Write it down, take a picture
Now I feel framed
The drugs got me so numb I can’t feel ashamed
And my girl at home with the mood swings
Girl I gotta make a few runs like Usain
Wish I had a penny for my
Thoughts for some loose change
Hungry niggas going at yo neck
For that food chain
Pop some pills that make me sleepy
Hoes creep me in they Teepee
I hope that pussy taste like kiwi
Hope it’s nicer than Tahiti
Hopin I could get a freebie
Leavin a nigga body floatin with
A mouth full of seaweed
What's in my Louis backpack, that’s ET
Snitches give me the heebeegeebees
I hope they’ll disappear
Where the fuck is Houdini?
I got niggas on my side
You got niggas on yo back
I’mma yell timber, money grow on trees
Money over queens, fuck you blow me
I sit back enjoy the breeze
Hoes prettier than please
I don’t really do shit but sit
Back and call the shots
She poured out her heart
I had it on the rocks
Red beam on yo head, that’s a cherry on top
You don’t wanna keep your cool
I know niggas that’ll die uh
I danced with the devil in my dreams
When I wake up I still hear the same song
Make me wanna blow a motherfucker brains out
Flood warning nigga, I’m about to brainstorm
Lil nigga i’ll take yo main ho
Make her call her homegirl
Make em share the same dick
It’s that motherfuckin Dedication 5
I just hope I’ll be alive
To see a Dedication 6 lil Tunechi
Ayo it’s levels to this shit
Levels to this shit
Been doing MIA since Levels was the shit
And niggas know I’m on another
Level with this shit
I’m pedaling the 6, full metal when it hit
All I need is a shovel and a ditch
You done dig me a hole then
You show me where it is
Run in his home and show me where the kids
Put one in his dome while
He going in his fridge that’s me, him nigga
Black piece AP, gold trim nigga
Black jeans, grey tee, old Tim’s nigga
Backstreet, everything go for 10 nigga
Keep quiet, beef we deep fry it
I’m in the streets like Rodney King’s riots
Mommy opposed their lead tight
On that old bullshit, Pete Myers
They scream and seize fire
My audible like Godfather meets Wire
A felon in the whip
Rollin 3 6’s, devil on trips
Shots whistled like a kettle when it’s lit
I’m tryin to go ballistic, shadow in the ship
Call the Barney Rubble in the whip
Made her kick rocks
Blow haze from ziplocks uh