Lyrical Breakdown of MIDDLE CHILD - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "MIDDLE CHILD" not only celebrates J. Cole'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 good, T-Minus? Niggas been countin' me out I'm countin' my bullets, I'm loadin' my clips I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit The game is off balance, I'm back on my shit The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty But that's how I like it, you all on my dick I'm all in my bag, this hard as it get I do not snort powder, I might take a sip I might hit the blunt, but I'm liable to trip I ain't poppin' no pill, but you do as you wish I roll with some fiends, I love 'em to death I got a few mil' but not all of them rich What good is the bread if my niggas is broke? What good is first class if my niggas can't sit? That's my next mission, that's why I can't quit Just like LeBron, get my niggas more chips Just put the Rollie right back on my wrist This watch came from Drizzy, he gave me a gift Back when the rap game was prayin' I'd diss They act like two legends cannot coexist But I'd never beef with a nigga for nothin' If I smoke a rapper, it's gon' be legit It won't be for clout, it won't be for fame It won't be 'cause my shit ain't sellin' the same It won't be to sell you my latest lil' sneakers It won't be 'cause some nigga slid in my lane Everything grows, it's destined to change I love you lil' niggas, I'm glad that you came I hope that you scrape every dollar you can I hope you know money won't erase the pain To the OGs, I'm thankin' you now Was watchin' you when you was pavin' the ground I copied your cadence, I mirrored your style I studied the greats, I'm the greatest right now Fuck if you feel me, you ain't got a choice Now I ain't do no promo, still made all that noise This shit gon' be different, I set my intentions I promise to slap all that hate out your voice Niggas been countin' me out I'm countin' my bullets, I'm loadin' my clips I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit The game is off balance, I'm back on my shit The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty But that's how I like it, you all on my dick I just poured somethin' in my cup I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel Promise I am never lettin' up Money in your palm don't make you real Foot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck Pistol in your hand don't make you real I'm dead in the middle of two generations I'm little bro and big bro all at once Just left the lab with young 21 Savage I'm 'bout to go and meet Jigga for lunch Had a long talk with the young nigga Kodak Reminded me of young niggas from 'Ville Straight out the projects, no fakin', just honest I wish that he had more guidance, for real Too many niggas in cycle of jail Spending they birthdays inside of a cell We coming from a long bloodline of trauma We raised by our mamas, Lord we gotta heal We hurting our sisters, the babies as well We killing our brothers, they poisoned the well Distorted self image, we set up to fail I'ma make sure that the real gon' prevail, nigga I just poured somethin' in my cup I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel Promise I am never lettin' up Money in your palm don't make you real Foot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck Pistol in your hand don't make you real Money in your palm don't make you real Pistol in your hand don't make you real Money in your palm don't make you real