Lyrical Breakdown of Gold Feet - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Gold Feet" 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 "Gold Feet" 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 "Gold Feet" 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!

Yeah They just ain't gonna freak it, freak it like me, ya dig? Yeah The fuck a ring, bitch, I like to cheat, I bought some gold feet Put that on my old-school Capris, dunk it like Dominique Yeah, feelin' good, feelin' great, ho Got my cake up, they gon' wake up, taste the yayo, the yayo L.A. price was high, I went to Daygo Big Mitchy got me sitchy, sippin' chickies out of state, yo, like Yeah, feelin' fine, feelin' good, bitch Got some bougie hos who still gon' fuck a hood bitch So do it, bitch, go 'head, let me strike it, you know how I like it She said, "All my stripper friends invited," only if they dykin' And I just left the Bentley lot so icy, they want me indicted Sleep with one eye open, always lurkin', movin' in silence Left Eye, rest in peace, I like to creep, fucked her on gold feet You can hit 15th on the east, pick up a whole ki' Used to be out west with the work, servin' the Chinatown Lord and then get caught with the pipes, I had to pipe it down, down Feelin' good, feelin' great (great, great) Feelin' great, feelin' good, how are you, nigga? How are you? I'm in the Ritz, finna mix with a thick bitch, how 'bout you? Say you wanna win, fuck nigga, but you really can't miss your wind, but you gotta jump through Ten in my Benz, put it on new shoes Fuck rap niggas, I don't do new crews Niggas get ignorant and get to kickin' shit We get to killin' shit, too much to lose I don't be chasin' these bitches, don't choose Breakin' your ho while you breakin' the news Niggas irrelevant without their bitch I'm a motherfuckin' pimp, so I'm makin' the rules, I'm makin' the rules, bitch Feelin' good, feelin' great (great, great) Feelin' great, feelin' good, how are you, nigga? How are you? I'm in the Ritz, finna mix with a thick bitch, how 'bout you? Yeah (Look) Finna whip this brick, nigga, how 'bout you? (Look) Bro, I'm coolin', lookin' ghoulish, feelin' great, the flow is fluid Flames, fires in the nighttime, dancin' around, the barrel bangs (bang) Layin' in that bed you made, gangsters in my DNA Jeans through the seams, tailor-made, it's hard to fabricate Back to back with stacks of platinum plaques, you know my résumé Lil' buddy was slingin' and catchin' plays on the eastside in a leather A Beatin' the block with a heavy bass, damn, fleein' the cops Schemin' on them in a ski mask, in the summer inside of the city Don't care if you see 'em or not, it's insidious I'm in Italy with Sicilians, standin' on stage, no, spitting soliloquies I'm a sinner, my life is a cinema, send me a script, I could be on a big screen Bunch of bad women with the cinnamon skin She send me a pic', it's a dick tea' Let's be serious, I got experience, win the series like I play for the big leagues (oh, shit, oh, shit) Okay, I'm feelin' great, feelin' good, I fill a tank, hit the bank, get a dub (oh, shit, oh, shit, whoa) Fuck a vape, fill a pape', full of bud, take a drag, take a drink Drawin' blanks, what's your name? I forgot what it was But what a day with my head in the clouds Moved around, thought it only was us But niggas don't counter the camera Then chill in Mechanicsville, cuttin', cookin' the chemicals Kamikaze but no cannibalism He caught a body, ain't know what to do with him I think about it back when we was just little Now I'm excited and it's on for a milli' It's kinda crazy when you do the comparisons Really 'cause both of us making a killin' I'm feelin' good, I'm great, I'm straight, my boy Can't too many niggas relate, my boy Okay, I shift shapes I ain't shootin' the shit, they was throwin' shade I'ma throw a fist like Sugar Shane Can't really even ask nigga, "How your day? How are you? How are things?" Shit bad, bitch, I might go insane like Howard Hughes 'Cause I can cop a plane like Howard too On the money chase with a wild goose Nigga, I ain't really fazed, I follow through Goin' out in a blaze, like tower two (oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit) How 'bout you? Uh, look Finna mix with a thick bitch, how 'bout you? Uh