Lyrical Breakdown of Grown Ups (feat. Da$H) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Grown Ups (feat. Da$H)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how Earl Sweatshirt feat. Dash weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Grown Ups (feat. Da$H)" 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 Earl Sweatshirt feat. Dash 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 Earl Sweatshirt feat. Dash's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Grown Ups (feat. Da$H)" not only celebrates Earl Sweatshirt feat. Dash'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!

So why'd they evict you, bro?

Feel this cage when that acid fade

Face the same, but your mind has changed

You desire a stable home

I acquire fame at naming hoes

Contemplating ways of getting dome

(Plotting on my neighbors

Asking God for favors, guess he isn't home)

Probably 'cause that fucking faith I didn't show

(Skippin church, flip the work)

Hit the dirt like Tommy run it bitch

Grew up in a home that papa wasn't in

Came up off of work that my conscience wasn't in

Either way it goes, a lot is getting hit

And if it wasn't hoes, then it probably was a lick

Got burners on my soul, and my posse on my skin

Sweaty D-A dollar top lotto picks

Promise that I am not the one to fucking plot against

Love him, but my father ain't my motherfucking friend

Trying to figure out how to start a motherfucking end

Trend dodging, keep a bitch by me, back roll

(Garbage bag full of xans

Place myself to rap still, nigga

Cash is in hand

Packs get vac sealed like the Tin Man

Cardiac still missing, is it past real?

Get it, work make Guinness)

Don't know where I'm going, don't know where I been

Never trust these hoes, can't even trust my friends

Tell that bitch to roll up, fucking with some grown ups

My mama wonder why I never seem to reach

See my daddy in the way I'm acting

And my facial features

Just trying to put you on

Dog, I came from teachers

Take the plate and clean it

Nigga, I'm a dog

Tell her hit or miss me with the fucking monologue

(Lord, I can't fight it, know I'm tryna brawl

Get a copper hauled off

Shit, I'm the type of nigga that you cop your raw off

Popping hoes off)

Grab the board and these niggas call charge

(Chain switches jerseys like it's all star

Press the OnStar, think it's all lost)