Lyrical Breakdown of The Way It Go - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "The Way It Go" 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 "The Way It Go" 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 "The Way It Go" 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!
Smoke kush, fuck bitches. That's the way it go
Drink lean, sell dope. That's the way it go
Walk in Fifths and buy the store. That's the way it go
That's the way it go, that's the way it go
Buy some ice and ride foreign. That's the way it go
Hit the club and buy the bar. That's the way it go
VIP, we usually stars. That's the way it go
That's the way it go, that's the way it go
Either way it go, Imma smoke a pound of kush
Got a redbone on my line, like to fuck wit crooks
She gotta brain on her, suck a good dick and read books
I'll take lil shawty shoppin, cause I like the way she look
I could put up wit her attitude, plus she ain't a stalker
Inside the cup pink, and I'm playing wit them dolphins
Ridin' fresh as hell, money in the glove compartment
Goin' cross town, to meet the bitch in her apartment
Got my jewelery on monster, flexin in my Burberry
Saks Fifth shoppin', twenty bags I ain't carry em
Jumpin out the Porsche Cayenne, zippin thru traffic
Money, cars, clothes. Young Future living lavish
I rock red diamonds like a maxi pad
And yellow diamonds like a taxi cab
My closet look like a smash and grab
My driveway look like a launching pad
My English broke, so I'm slurring words
Imma zoo keeper, I'm holdin' birds
My swag absurd, can't be put in words
You old rappers, kicked to the curb
Now the way it go, about 3 or 4
Imma probably leave wit bout 3 or 4
And they followin and they swallowin
I gotta house so big can't find em in
Or I could get a room and just pile em in
Gucci Mane switchin' up the style again
Gotta hunned mill on my mind again
I'm icey bitch, go blind again
Hit it wit the fork. Hit it, hit wit the fork
Ion drink unless it's dirty, and I'm higher than a hawk
White and red tiger stripes, I'm in the Aston Martin
I put the roof inside the trunk, the kush be stinkin' like a skunk
I'm the clouds, just what I want. Today I smoked a hundred blunts
I took this bad bitch to lunch, she been hittin' me for a month
Had to make some time for her, I been busy all this money
If I ain't outta town doing shows, you know what I be on
From Benihana to the Intercontinental draped in stones
Wit a pretty yellowbone, and she hold a nice tone
Got a call and a text, hope it's money on my phone
My bitch flying in from Cali, say her flight 3 hours long