Lyrical Breakdown of Stars - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "Stars" not only celebrates JID'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!

Oh, woah, woah Look, uh Baby girl, have faith in a n- without a job And let a n- stay at your place Play it for your friends when I drop a mixtape Both of us will win if I get a big break Broke -? Baby, had a long day Tryna get rich, buy you Dolce And Gabbana, baby, just be honest Don't be tryna play me, I'm an artist Baby, I'm an artist Baby, I'm an artist (and I'm sensitive about my sh-) I been tryna make it on my grind, I'm taking what is mine I'm racing with the time I been tryna make it at my hardest, making it a promise Chasing with my heart in it I just gotta make it to the stars, a spaceship or a rocket Painting, I'm an artist I'm just tryna make it as an artist (and I'm sensitive about my sh-) I just gotta make it Heavy way to hold the head and notice Just a long and cold and scary But I don't even feel a thing no more I set my goals and I'm prepared (look-look-look-look-look, uh) Will you be there? (Look, uh) Everybody wanna come and hang with the stars Pinky ring, chain, bling-bling and the cars A hundred miles an hour on the way to Lee-R You don't even believe in Jesus wearing Christian Dior You crazy on a Twitter, who we need for PR? You out of control, P-O-W-E-R Went to the head and now you doing bodily harm On the - and nobody wanna say Because they scared to lose a gig But yeah-yeah, you wanna be JID, kid I used to wanna be Jay, I used to wanna be Wayne I used to wanna be Kanye and Andre 3K And all my homegirls wanted to be Beyoncé Can you pay my telephone bills? (Woah, woah) I was just looking for a deal Working so hard, had to sharpen my skills Work with my dawgs, still sharpen my (steel) Was still in apartments, stealing and starving Fast-forward, I'm in a building with stars And I got in Yachty car, he got stars in the ceiling Pause for a minute (wait) Gotta know the difference in the stars and the gimmicks Are you really in it for the arts or the image? Do you really live it in your heart and spirit? It's part of all you are, and all you isn't Heavy way to hold the head and notice (trust your vision) Just a long and cold and scary (trust your vision) But I don't even feel a thing no more I set my goals and I'm prepared Will you be there? And now, a word from our ancestors Man, I, I like these new slaves Your chain hanging, bling swinging, back breaking But it's gleaming, problem posture, double cup leaning Slide, slouching tiger, pimping dragon on swagger VVS is very vertebrae snapping, lights flashing A manicured appearance concealing the shattered spirit Jinn sneering out the paradox prism The palace as the prison, retail religion Red carpet constriction, the freedom is the fiction As n- raised specific is race really existing Man, get the bag, you're tripping Go 'head partner, hit this, sip this Wishlist, hitlist, top ten, sh- list, b-less Chickless, playmate, playboy, flip sides, same coin, big front But no joy, yuck, oh boy, hot girls, cold hearts Tax man like the Taliban and ISIS No relation to class of Osiris Kissing cousins 'til the climbing gas prices kill a climate Yikes-es, sucker, mean mugging, who the nicest? A promised death known is what they life is Bey tap in, they tap out like a tabloid typist They touch too tiny to the titan, YA-S-double I-N Conquering lion out the liar Seek the garden, flee the fire One, two, three, four