Lyrical Breakdown of 1985 - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "1985" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Freddie Gibbs weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "1985" 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 Freddie Gibbs 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 Freddie Gibbs's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "1985" not only celebrates Freddie Gibbs'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!

My brother said, "Don't say that" I said, "Fuck that, I'm gon' get a whoopin' anyway! It don't make no goddamn difference" Fuck that, I'm not goin' to find shit What your mom say? "Take the garbage out, what the fuck?" (Yeah) Yeah, don't lose the beat motherfucker Take the garbage out Yeah-yeah, I just upped the flows to the God level, nigga, what Yeah Yeah-yeah Finna up the flows to the God level, nigga, what Yeah, check-check Yeah, mic check-check Yeah, nigga, check-check Yeah, bitch, check-check Yeah, yeah Quarter thang to a whole thang, whole gang workin' (Yeah) Hit a bitch with that extended clip or that revolver Shit'll serve the same purpose (Bang, bang) Geekers beamin' up to Scotty in my crack lobby I can smell the 'caine burnin' Michael Jordan, 1985, bitch, I travel with a cocaine circus Put them F'in Xs on your clowned ass Catch a nigga up and leave him down bad I go get a pack and take a nigga town And fuck his bitches with my out-of-town ass Bomb on niggas like Nagasaki Rocket next to my pocket, hot like hibachi Drop the check on the bitch Man, these niggas be lookin' like baby mommas in these Maseratis Bitch, I fuck up your face with a razor How I make sure your motherfuckin' family can't view your body Nigga thuggin' and shit, put my blood in this shit Prick my finger, Alfredo, Illuminati (Illuminati) Joe Pesci, push your product You niggas is sweeter than Joe Exotic On the run like Assata, so fuck the police As a nigga be chillin' in the hotbox (Hoppin' out the box) Police caught him with a whole thang Now they snitchin' man, whole gang workin' Gangland, made a lane in it Dip my name in it, it's some gang murder All my reps in the crack files, bitch, I got 'em up out the vault I'm the reason your mama be smokin' that Brillo And be rippin' them contenders off (Them contenders off) Geekers beamin' up to Scotty in my crack lobby I can smell the 'caine burnin' Gangland, if you put a hit on Freddie 'caine, it'll be a gang murder 1985, Michael Jordan, bitch, I travel with a cocaine circus Flow God level, like when HOV speak I make a song weep, I got the game hurt Bitch, yeah-yeah Flow God level, like when HOV speak I make a song weep, I got the game hurt Yeah, yeah-yeah Yeah, check-check Check-check Check-check Check-check Niggas need a check-check, yeah We got everybody in the house, tonight I'll wait for my DJ to get ready Nah