Lyrical Breakdown of 200 - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "200" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how Future weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "200" 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 Future 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 Future's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "200" not only celebrates Future'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!

Everything right Everything right Everything right Everything right All these niggas Everything right, you back in Givenchy I only drink Actavis, I'm on a diet I'ma chase it like Hussain All this money bring a nigga new pain (woah, woah, woah) Yeah, yeah I got at least 200 hoes Fresh to death, and I leave my current in a doze Up and down you ain't receive nothin' 'bout this dough And these hundreds ain't goin' nowhere like a moat I bought my moms a car, it felt amazin' My niggas bangin' burgundy like the Redskins I got all type of tattoos on my fuckin' shin I was in a white and red Maybach like peppermints I've been blown a mil' on jewelry, but it's past tense Super charge it, make it sound like it's raggly I'm ridin' with the cutter, I'm Blood like my brothers, a MAC 10 Diamonds on me talkin', they harassin' No shoulda, coulda, woulda, I got these racks in Came a long way from a Chevy Now we spend millions on cribs You get somethin' too, don't trip My eyes 'bout low as a brim I smoke the tree limb, tree limb No gang, big deal I'm tryna pop a wheelie in a Lamborghini standin' on two wheels I got the racks on me, now I can buy me a cruise ship I just got an iPhone 8 and already stored it with 200 hoes You can smell the money on me, it comes from off my clothes My Jordan fits, yeah, are never found in stores You might as well gon', gon', gon' home Money long, long, long, long All way up to Mercury Any time I come out, gotta step out with a three piece I've been in my bag lately, take three drugs at once lately Got every shade of Tom Ford, I can spot fugazi I came out the slums, I got Hermes in a headlock If she ain't up to par, she 'bout to get dead docked Between my diamonds and my fame, became so anxious I sit at the top of the throne, yeah, 'cause I'm righteous Got a few vice lords for some friends, some of 'em disciples And can't nothin' come between niggas like us Yeah yeah, I got at least 200 hoes Fresh to death, and I leave my current in a doze Up and down you ain't receive nothin' 'bout this dough And these hundreds ain't goin' nowhere like a moat