Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Centurion (feat. Vince Staples)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Centurion (feat. Vince Staples)" 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Centurion (feat. Vince Staples)" not only celebrates undefined'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!
Oh, me? Yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm just tryna say somethin'
I, I, drop it off
I feel like the Tom Sawyer for real niggas
Looking for a problem, revolver under the Hilfiger
No bluff needed, we will kill niggas
So try me if you want, bruh, I promise I'm with all of that
Late night shooters, got 'em thinking Johnny Carson back
Trying to win this white man game with my heart intact
All off a dollar and a dream that I really had
Kind of hard to sleep when your thoughts is in the streets
Norf Norf is the side where my family stay
Big Baby Jesus, I can't wait
Until the money coming in, spend it all on guns and rims
I ain't nothing but a nigga, ain't no reason to pretend
Kept the sticky in the Stussy pouch
Ski mask, bloody 'Preme hoodie tossing doobies out the window
Of the hoopty, night black as Paul Mooney
At the movies but the moon was out
Food was always optional
Eating nothing but hard punches to that abdominal
Closed fist chronicles, sold sniff, Momma knew
Baggies laying 'round, peanut shells at a carnival
Stomping clowns, welcome pussy niggas to the romper room
Buckshot'll cover a whole torso like a parka do
In a park at 2:00, plotting, trying to garner loot
Split it with his big roll dog, call him Marmaduke
Searching for a shard of truth and found, uh
Couple bucks bought his cousins lunch
Another Dutch, stiff collar on the button-up
Hood, rich, wild, and 'bout to run amok
Road to hell paved with cement, covered trussled drugs, toughen up
Well, alright, okay
If that's how you truly feel about it then
Alright, okay
If that's how you truly feel about it then
Vinny Stape, they stupid, think the city safe
Until that little bindi placed, head shots, red dot
Block as hot as Denny plates, fed watch, fed watch
Opinions only pity based, deep in the Civic with the
Evilest niggas this side of the Mississippi
All courtesy of Vincent from niggas who plot against
Ear-L-double-S, hear shells from the Tec
Hear in full-effect, eat a dick and cut a check, bitch
Few niggas I'm on a first-name basis with
Address me by the alias, that trunk weighted
Like he 'bout to catch a case again
Eighths louder than the voice of Satan
That be plaguing him
Bruh, I'm caking whether Hell or bad weather
High water, I'm a sailor-type assailant for the paper
Living like I met the maker twice
Hit it 'til I'm faded right?
Mami, take a hike or treat it like you fucking shaking dice, bitch
Well, alright, okay
If that's how you truly feel about it then
Alright, okay
If that's how you truly feel about it then