Lyrical Breakdown of T Shirt - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "T Shirt" 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 "T Shirt" 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 "T Shirt" 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!
You woke up feelin way better
Way better than the day you did before
You got the whole world in the palm of your hands
You had to let it go
DJ C-Money in this motherfucker...
La Familia...
Freeband Gang...
We global now...
Got my t-shirt game crazy, I'm goin' money crazy
All this money confiscatin' ain't no imitatin
All it took was some patience--Niggas still hatin
Mo' money and mo' problems, ain't no imitatin'
Glock 40, lemme squeeze, why you better tote it
Strippers, money, weed, Young Future I promote it
Like when I was sellin rocks nigga I'm still hungry
Quarter million, all hundreds, got em all on me
Hell ya, bout that lifestyle
Pradas on me right now
Had to pay my lawyer off cuz nigga I don't do trial
Bitches I don't do trial, you can keep your comments
I be gettin' this money, bout to fuckin vomit
30 on my stomach, tell me "how bad do you want it?"
Prada's what I'm rockin', Alexander got me cocky
All that damn finessin' and I took off like the Jetsons
All that damn stressin' and a nigga start progressin'
Yeah Yeah
Ain't no sympathy nigga, ain't no sympathy nigga!
You remember me nigga, know you remember me nigga!
I'ma whip up in them foreigns make you envy me nigga
I'm gone whip up in them foreigns make you envy me nigga
I got that sack out the front door and I went skraight through the back
I was fucked up and starvin', I go stand right in that trap
I'm bout to sell me some yayo, I gotta juug out the [??]
I won't wear em no more, if those shoes a day old
See I consist and I am, see I persist and I am
I woke up in that Bugatti, went and bought me three Lambs
That's an Aventador nigga, that cost a hundred a piece
I went so hard in the streets, I'm bout to have me a feast