Lyrical Breakdown of Mob Ties - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Mob Ties" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Drake weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Mob Ties" 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 Drake 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 Drake's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Mob Ties" not only celebrates Drake'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!
Ayy, sick of these niggas (Sick)
Sick of these niggas (Sick, sick)
Hire some help (Help)
Get rid of these niggas (Skrr)
Sick of this shit, move to the Ritz
Turned out the bitch (Ayy)
It is what it is, yeah
GLE, 'cause that Lambo movin' fast (Skrr)
S Class, G Class, lotta class (Sss, sss)
In a rocket and that bitch ain't got no tags (Skrr, skrr)
Louis bags in exchange for body bags, yeah
I'm sick of these niggas (Sick)
Sick of these niggas (Sick, sick)
Hire some help (Help)
Get rid of these niggas (Grr)
Fuck what it was (What)
It is what it is (What)
Whatever you did, it is what it is
And I'm so tired (Tired)
I fuck with the mob and I got ties (Lotta ties, lotta ties)
Knock you off to pay their tithes (Do-doo)
They want me gone but don't know why
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
It's too late for all that
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that
Ayy, sick of these niggas
I'm sick of these niggas
Hire some help
Get rid of these niggas
I'm not with the ra-ra
I am a Da-da
My bitch in Chanel now
Your bitch in Escada
(Sick, sick, sick, sick)
Yeah, and they shook
Please don't let them fool ya
I don't care how they look (Nah)
Heard all of the talkin'
Now it's quiet, now it's shush (Shh)
Twenty-nine is comin'
They on edge when I cook (Cook)
Lead the league in scorin'
Man, but look at my assists (Shh)
Yes I be with Future
But I like to reminisce (Yeah)
I do not forget a thing
I'm patient, it's a gift (yeah)
Try to tell 'em they ain't got to do it
They insist (They insist)
Yeah, I can tell
I just gave 'em two for forty million like Chappelle (Two)
Standin' over coffin with a hammer and a nail (two)
Heard you hit up so and so
That name don't ring a bell, nah
Sick of these niggas (Sick)
Hire some help
Get rid of these niggas
I'm sick of this shit (Ssick, sick)
I'm runnin' a blitz (Ayy)
Whatever you did (Ayy)
It is what it is
And I'm so tired (Tired)
I fuck with the mob and I got ties (Lotta ties, lotta ties)
Knock you off to pay their tithes (Do-doo)
They want me gone but don't know why
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit
All that other shit
It's too late for all that
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit
All that other shit
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that