Lyrical Breakdown of Midwest Malcolm (Inhale) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Midwest Malcolm (Inhale)" 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 "Midwest Malcolm (Inhale)" 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 "Midwest Malcolm (Inhale)" 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 Like Inhale and exhale this shit That gangsta shit, gangsta shit Some people ain't fit to this shit, ain't hip to this shit But you know what I'm sayin, I'm gonna spit this shit I tell motherfuckers like this, I tell 'em all the time When the world becomes perfect, maybe I'll rap about that shit It's on, and once again I bring niggas the realest Viciously vivid, straight explosive, highly explicit Got my broke ass off of my momma couch and I started pitchin' Cause bitches ain't checking for a nigga working at the Village Slanging Volvos, pushing the bucket sedan four doors I needed a Lexus coupe sittin' on 20's with a set of MOMOs A young old soul so I stay in the frame Let's put this thang up and get some paint and just throw my shit on them thangs And I be rollin', shine but never let them know just what you holdin Better keep that thing on tuck, I know niggas that's making bucks serving cain uncut Used to pay me to take that dust on the Greyhound bus Now I'm my own man, grown man, deal with my own dirt Perfectly pounding the pavement and purchase my own work Benefit from the killer shit that's making my phone twerk Say she don't know no Freddie G, well bitch do your homework No hoes in my history can shit on Gibbs Grew up amongst the crack babies and the flintstone kids 17th and Pennsylvania bitch, my whole fucking block poor Couldn't afford a baby crib, I slept up in a sock drawer Interscope they thought it was a joke but it was not so They tried to have a nigga do that fast food pop flow I'm secret with ingredients, my lyrics is home cooked Some reefer and a yellow bitch that's thick as a phone book All I need, a fool with the tools to succeed Take this G out of me and then you mix it with Cali weed I would say this shit turned me to a monster but bitch I've been a beast Gangster Gibbs greasy as a church's chicken 20-piece It should be mandatory that this shit is self-explanatory Malcolm of the Mid, no other nigga in my category It's mandatory that this shit is self-explanatory Malcolm of the Mid, no other nigga in my category Gibbs The flow's not the volts Smokin' all that yodi yodi yodi, you know what i'm talking 'bout (Ra ra ra ra ra ra, Tara ta ra ra) Yeah west, Gangsta, boss by Catalag music uhh (Ra ra ra ra ra ra, Tara ta ra ra) I can flow to this (Ra ra ra ra ra ra, Tara ta ra ra) (Ra ra ra ra ra ra, Tara ta ra ra) (Ra ra ra ra ra ra, Tara ta ra ra)