Lyrical Breakdown of Hoarse - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "Hoarse" not only celebrates Earl Sweatshirt'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!

Gorgeous chrome-plated horse whip Home, making paintings for poor quality porn flicks Court adjourned and the verdict's still saucy Sack swinging like Dub-D40 on a door hinge Good lord, walk light like the floor slick Look bored, hoard all mics in a force grip Pro-abortion endorsing his own importance Or leaving opponents floating with paper and dirty porcelain Pinnacle of titillating crisp spit Fist clinched emulating '68 Olympics Rock it from the cradle 'til he middle aged and limp-sticked Coughing from the stable probably indicating spliff's lit Dismissed, feel it in that saturated cranium Heavy as insurance off a spanking new laser gun Crazy heart, hazy lung, making art, raking funds Crowd going dumb like Palin's son, uh And it always follows Autumn No home for the weak No insurance for your pride Jive Jive And it always follows Autumn I sit in thought 'til the flow is right Then throw some D on all available open mics Smoke it right proposing these niggas over wipe More because I normally toilet bowl with a broken pipe The former soloist who flow was sick The token sober kid stressed so the role was switched Four Lokos down the hole and a loaded spliff And who was useless as a broken wrist when tryna open shit Nigga cold is what you need to keep the poultry in Resulting in me rolling slick as bottom of the bowling kicks Early man, you posers know me as the troll throwing Moldy donut holes at your grody hoe from his cronies' whip Eating like the kids when you take 'em off Ritalin Throwing temper tantrums at the window of your whip again Sweeping up the glass to use it as a garnish over tracks Damaged like the leg he limping to the barn with Chickenshits Temper 'bout as thick as tips of pencils is, missiles to the picket fence Who spit as good finger-lickin' bitch bet, it's 36 fish Netted like the hook was inefficient And it always follows Autumn No home for the weak No insurance for your pride Jive Jive It always follows Autumn