Lyrical Breakdown of Trap Shit (Feat. Lil Baby) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Trap Shit (Feat. Lil Baby)" 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 "Trap Shit (Feat. Lil Baby)" 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 "Trap Shit (Feat. Lil Baby)" 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!

(Zaytoven) Trap shit Trap shit (huh) Trap shit Trap shit Sellin' Vin Diesel, strong Cookie, that Keisha Gucci poppin' P's like Georgia just made it legal (wow) Higher than an eagle, leanin' like Beanie Sigel (I'm leanin') Flyer than a pilot, jean jacket by Diesel (phew) All-gold rocket, the socket matchin' my Foamposite You's a nobody, she goin', she fuck with everybody (go) Lil' 'Crest boys in the hood, wanna see a dead body? Four pockets stuffed and LaFlare, we bust at everybody At Club Crucial, these hood bitches, they love Crucial (wow) That's my young shooter, recruit him to send some slugs through you We search 'em 'fore they come in the trap, might have a bug on 'em (huh?) He's a walking dead man, don't know it, he got a dub on him (yeah) Beat him with a bat, then fuck it, pour kerosene on him Everybody searchin' for holmes, but we ain't seen homie Chainsaw massacre, call 1017 on 'em Make it look drug-related, man, pour some lean on him Everything I rap 'bout official, I'm from the streets, bitch (street) Hundred thousand all my pockets, this ain't no sweet lick (sweet) 'Nother 60K on my wrist, this a Patek, bitch (this a Patek, bitch) All my hoes got fat asses, they all on fleek, bitch (they all on fleek, bitch) All my bitches wearin' designer, I don't want no cheap bitch (I don't want no cheap bitch) Draco with me everywhere I go, on the front seat, bitch (on the front seat, bitch) Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (wow) Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (yeah) Fifty racks cash on me, that's just today's profit (today's profit) 4 Pockets Full, lil' bitch, I ain't got no damn wallet (I ain't got no wallet) Fuck around and got in the game, I got the streets poppin' (I got 'em poppin') Pussy niggas tellin' on me, I know the feds watchin' (I know they watchin') How the hell he gettin' this money? I keep on buyin' watches Jackboys thinkin' I'm sweet, I keep on buyin' choppers Lock me up, I'm gettin' out tomorrow, I think I'm El Chapo Bricks came 1017, I got some damn extras Flexin' on these niggas on purpose, check out this damn necklace Dropped eighty racks on a Charger, next day, I damn wrecked it (skrrt) Pull up with them sticks like the army, they say we young veterans They won't pull up in them apartments, they say we too treacherous Everything I rap 'bout official, I'm from the streets, bitch (street) Hundred thousand all my pockets, this ain't no sweet lick (sweet) 'Nother 60K on my wrist, this a Patek, bitch (this a Patek, bitch) All my hoes got fat asses, they all on fleek, bitch (they all on fleek, bitch) All my bitches wearin' designer, I don't want no cheap bitch (I don't want no cheap bitch) Draco with me everywhere I go, on the front seat, bitch (on the front seat, bitch) Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (wow) Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (yeah)