Lyrical Breakdown of Wool (feat. Vince Staples) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Wool (feat. Vince Staples)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

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

This lyrical analysis of "Wool (feat. Vince Staples)" not only celebrates Earl Sweatshirt feat. Vince Staples'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!

Yeah, yeah, yeah Soon as I catch the vibe tell 'em to fetch the hearse Shorty I'm pressin' lines lifting the Lauren shirt Tell her to bless the girth if she with it I'm in that kitchen, wrist water whippin' work (psych) Nigga, I don't do that Niggas get bloop-blapped and blown away Wessons making Mexicans wetbacks like "Órale!" Okay, I'm on to something Momma should've told you it'd be days like this It's just a tale from the crip I'm on my séance shit, I'm tryna make a million dollars Keep it hood while crossing over on some A.I. shit I need a foreign baby momma to match a nigga model whip Ramona Park made me from scratch A lot of lotto picks lost inside this game called rap I be the underdog Bullet hit his forehead, it exit out his under arm Ain't nobody bigger than my hood, my nigga, fuck a boss Baby-mama killer, you offended, and I fuck her raw Stretchy doing federal time for busting at the law And he gonna be a neighbor of mine, you play me for a pawn Shawty, I be swimming with sharks, your posse full of prawns Pistols rip his body apart, now he afraid of dark alleyways Niggas better listen when the pastor say Ugh, hold on, hold on, let me hear me that Ugh, hold on, hold on, ugh Ugh, hold on, hold on, ugh It's Golf on that-, bitch, it's Golf on that ball cap I guzzle the tall boy, Jehovah ain't call back And y'all still debating over Earl music Troops got the group nationwide moving merch units crazy Peanut butter to paisley, walking down the street In the different color McGrady's, that first grader was me Now my fist full of spliffs and the old banker receipts Bitches grip the stick and jerky like cold shanks of the beef, dry I'm taking purses like they chances in the evening Pick your pants up, boy, you dancing with a demon On my momma I been limiting my features, filling swishers up with reefer Bitch, it's difficult to beat him like a soft dick Golf clique deep, and we don't hit the streets passive That nigga Sweaty got the gas and Shreddy K brought the matches Pitch your body in the water like a Lipton teabag and then Switch to different fucking whip to let them piggies speed past him It's the rats, try and get the cheese What it do? Rap like I'm mincing meat Call me Lou, if I'm on the track, these niggas skip to me Niggas want to fade me, bitches feel some type of way for me 50's in my pocket falling out like fucking baby teeth Vince be with the rocket, he gone pop it when it's danger round Fingertips to tapers, now, salute us when you face us Give a fuck about the moves all these loser niggas making now