Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Harold’s" 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 "Harold’s" 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 "Harold’s" 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!
Uh, yeah, niggas was wearing budgets
Talking 'bout like William School niggas was wearing budgets
Was third grade, you know what I'm saying?
I said, ya bitch, yeah
I keep a chip off in my cell phone, pocket full of stones
Smoking on the strong, Freddie Kane, Freddie Corleone
Marshalltown niggas, had a nigga running home
I call Kinnell, get me a .38 now, bitch, it's on
Nine-millimeter Beretta to 40-cal
Glock 23 fresh up out the box, bitch, I hold it down
I hit the stroll with a chili bowl and a crooked smile
Fast forward ten years, came back with Rollies with golden crowns
Skinny nigga, six-wing, mild sauce
With all the fries you can give me, I tear them bitches off
Ski mask on your baby daddy? Well, that's that nigga loss
Pointin' my trey-five-seven, I got my point across
A skinny nigga, six-wing, mild sauce
With all the fries you can give me, I tear them bitches off
This burning hole in my pocket got me out here flippin' soft
.223 on my enemy, tear them bitches off
Skinny nigga, six-wing, mild sauce
With all the fries you can give me, I tear them bitches off
A plate of chicken with the bread stuck to the bottom
But fuck my enemies, what you looking for? Bitch, I got 'em
Say bitch, I got 'em, say bitch, I got 'em
Fuck my enemies, what you looking for? Bitch, I got 'em
Say bitch, I got 'em, say bitch, I got 'em
Fuck my enemies, what you looking for? Bitch, I got 'em
KFC, Harold's, Sharks, or Popeyes
Adidas suit with a plate of chicken, got mob ties
A fresh Delt', weed crumbs on my plush seats
I got my license now I'm backseat fucking every week
A thick bitch live in Miller, go to work
3:30, school was out then I was fresh under her skirt
Them project niggas hit that bitch, that pussy went berserk
Don't hit without that Trojan, fuck around, you might get burnt
She was raised in the church, turnt out in the ghetto
Lock it, pussy pop it, I swear, this bitch deserve a medal
Seen school girls turn into strippers in stilettos
Pimpin' 'til I die, if you wanna stop it, get your shovel, bitch
Extra sauce with the bread stuck to the bottom
Freddie Forgiato, all my bitches spoiled rotten
Cop that llama, got the hollows poppin' out the barrel
Got a stain for them hubbas, meet me at the Harold's, bitch
A skinny nigga, six-wing, mild sauce
With all the fries you can give me, I tear them bitches off
A plate of chicken with the bread stuck to the bottom
But fuck my enemies, what you looking for? Bitch, I got 'em
Say bitch, I got 'em, say bitch, I got 'em
Fuck my enemies, what you looking for? Bitch, I got 'em
Say bitch, I got 'em, say bitch, I got 'em
Fuck my enemies, what you looking for? Bitch, I got 'em