Lyrical Breakdown of Gold Purple Orange - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Jean Grae weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Gold Purple Orange" 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 Jean Grae 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 Jean Grae's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Gold Purple Orange" not only celebrates Jean Grae'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!

If you two-wheel and tryna chill, get a kickstand Everybody gettin' money had a game plan Every truth seeker dropped by a hit man Everybody alt-right gotta be white Everybody disagree gotta be wrong Everybody black dick gotta be long Every mixtape dropped gotta be free Everybody from the hood gotta be G Everything in the news gotta be real, right? Every Jew, golden rule, gotta save bills Every young nigga gotta deadbeat daddy Every independent lady attitude trashy Anybody ain't lit gotta be old If you dressed like that you gotta wanna fuck If I got locs, then I gotta stay blowed And if it ain't fronto it gotta be a blunt And if I gotta cop squared, why they gotta be Ports Either keep it real or you Unc' Tom buggin' If two ain't the same, why one gotta be broke? You can play the game, I ain't gotta be nothin' for you, but me From the head nappy to feet Can't hurry somethin' so complete Took time like duck confit If spaceships too far from your reach It's weightless way down in the deep, yeah You ain't 'bout to have me lose no sleep 'cause I'm grindin' You ain't 'bout to see me snoozin', no sleep Same time, man Young girl, side ponytail, thrift store garb (garb) Frizzy hair, bookworm, but street smart (smart) Immigrant children watchin' Buckwheat late night Listen to Depeche Mode, Big Audio Oh Dynamite Identity crisis, coming later, vices Are coming even later, prices for a life lived (lived) Without life built, for the right price, guilt 'Cause you can be the things they say to be and get killed (killed) With difficulty comes learnin' Where typically those less exposed to those burdens (what?) Can flourish without knowin' themselves Without growin' themselves, without the moments of doubt Moments of bells all ringin', singin', low self-esteem Jean walk a hundred feet tall, walk mean Talk obscene, craw guffaw, cross scenes Never cross on the green, 'cause I ain't got to be nothing for you but me (but me) From my 3B down to feet (to feet) Can't fathom how it's so complete (complete) Take ya time like duck confit (ahh shit) Spaceships, they ain't never out of reach (outta reach) I'm up high and down, down the deep (down deep) You ain't bout to have me losin' no sleep, 'cause I'm grindin' You ain't bout to see me snoozin', no sleep Same time, man For the 10 feet short Hundred degrees cold Ridin' high on summit low Mighty weak, light as stone Pretty ugly, faded glow Hold on tight, I'm letting go One million dollars poor Live to die, dyin' to grow For the 10 feet short Hundred degrees cold Ridin' high on summit low Mighty weak, light as stone Pretty ugly, faded glow Hold on tight, I'm letting go One million dollars poor Live to die, dyin' to grow For the 10 feet short Hundred degrees cold Ridin' high on summit low Mighty weak, light as stone Pretty ugly, faded glow Hold on tight, I'm letting go One million dollars poor Live to die, dyin' to grow For the 10 feet short Hundred degrees cold Ridin' high on summit low Mighty weak, light as stone Pretty ugly, faded glow Hold on tight, I'm letting go Hold on tight, I'm letting go Hold on tight, I'm letting go