Lyrical Breakdown of Outta Proportion - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "Outta Proportion" not only celebrates Gucci Mane'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!

Hah Cook that shit up Quay It's Gucci (Evil) Hah (Genius) Fast coupe, haha (Nyoom) Hah (Mr. Nice Guy, haha) If you ain't 'bout lettin' that choppa go, we ain't got none in common (No) I hate snitches, I like bitches (Snitch), but I'm so in love with money (Money) Had to cut some of my kinfolks off, they didn't keep it one hundred (What's up?) If I said it, then I done it (Huh?) Fuck that fake love, I don't want it Time to renegotiate my contract Bitch, I feel like Andre Drummond (Wow) Thumbin' through a half a mil' on Instagram lookin' like I play on Sundays You just chick who suck my dick Miss Lady, you're not the other woman (No) Fuck a friendship that's platonic (No) I need a friend that keeps me cumming (No, no) Touch down in Boston, Gucci be flossin' I'm about to ghost on Cold Steve Austin (Scooch) Thieves on my trail, but you know I lost 'em (Scooch) Four pipes, yeah I quadruple exhaust 'em Outta this world like Marvin the Martian (Hah) Fifty a verse and I'm on the charts These rappers so fake that they screamin', "Extortion" My choppa keep blowin' shit out of proportion Shout out these saucin', niggas are horsin' Booties and titties, the perfect proportion Postin' a pic and it's makin' me horny (Yeah) Baby these karats, these are not pointers Killin' that pussy, I'm Gucci Kevorkian Ballin' in Fresno like Jerry Tarkanian (Yeah) Gucci's the alien, I'm from uranium Droppin' the top, yeah I'm crackin' the cranium (Drop) All in the stadium (Top) like I play (Guwop), all my kinfolks call me Ray (Ray) Then my grandad look at me, like, "I'm so damn glad you lit" Why is your jewelry, lookin' aluminum Why's it dull, what did you do to them I'm gettin' fucked, pockets on stuffed (Ooh) Dressin' like a plug, yeah I stay dripped up (Scooch) Knocked me down, picked 'em up Salt me down, yeah fuck me up (Yeah fuck me up) Too turnt up, too turnt up Knocked me down, but I picked them up (Whoa) Salt me down, salt me down Yeah they salt me down, but I turnt them up (No) But I'm too turnt up (Too), I'm so up (Up, up, up, up) Wop Outta proportion, outta proportion My choppa keep blowin' shit outta proportion Outta proportion, outta proportion My choppa keep blowin' shit outta proportion Outta proportion, outta proportion Outta pro-outta proportion Blowin' shit outta proportion, outta proportion My choppa keep blowin' shit outta proportion