Lyrical Breakdown of FYM (feat. Mystikal) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how Joyner Lucas feat. Mystikal weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "FYM (feat. Mystikal)" 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 Joyner Lucas feat. Mystikal 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 Joyner Lucas feat. Mystikal's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "FYM (feat. Mystikal)" not only celebrates Joyner Lucas feat. Mystikal'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!

Picture me putting my city all over the map

They wasn't believers, I had to get even at math

We coming, I'm pulling and jumping all over your grass

So tell all my bitches I got a new girl

Tell the police that I'm robbing the bank

And I want all of my fifty's in cash

Bitch, I'm tired of living check the cheque

I need twenty models and some extra sex

Smiling in my grave, bitch I'm fresh to death

I've been drinking Wu-Tang with Inspectah Deck (getting drunk)

Yeah, I got some shit that I gotta just get off my chest

I can admit I got lots on my list and you next

Take it how you want it, I ain't famous like I want it

But I think I might just skrrt off, blow the speakers and turn up

Pop a bottle of Smirnoff, go to church with my shirt off

Tell the Lord that I'm here now, I've been waiting for so long

I've been patient for so long, breaking rules like there's no laws

And I did it for a long time

If you don't like me, take a ticket, there's a long line

Nice to meet me, hoe, I think the pleasure's all mine

Shit, they've been clocking me so long, I think they lost time

Ooh you lost your mind, nigga, fuck you mean

Hol' on, goddamn it, nigga fuck you mean

And I don't trust a muthafucking soul

What the fuck you mean?

Hol' up, whoa whoa whoa whoa

What the fuck you mean?

Don't know what you think, compare me to niggas is nothing

Adrenaline pumping, and blood will be leaking and running

Shit, I do what I do, I don't care if you like it or love it

Tell all of my bitches I got a new girl

Yo tell the police that I'm robbing the bank

And I want all my money in hundreds

Bitch, I'm tired of living on the edge

I wanna sell drugs but they gon' call the feds

I just bought a brick and that shit cost an arm and leg

My momma told me take it back and get a job instead

(Where's your common sense, nigga?)

Me and the devil got too much in common, I swear

Born in the ghetto I never had nothing to fear

Take it how you want it, I ain't famous like I want it

So, I might just throw a hissy fit

Call up Cassie, ask her if she broke up with Diddy yet

I said shawty, if she's talking I ain't hitting it

'Cause she gon' call her friends up and brag about the shit we did

Whoa, I ain't into pillow talking, go chop off your lips

If I ain't in your top ten, go dive off a bridge

My block boys got Glock fours that'll knock off your lid

I doubt you gon' pop off, so hop off my dick

Whoo! Nigga, fuck you mean, woo!

Goddamn it, I said fuck you mean?!

Listen, I don't trust a muthafucking soul

Nigga, no, nigga, fuck you mean?!

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa

What the fuck you mean?!

You thought I was finished, you thought it was over

You thought I retired, you thought I went fishing with Kobe

Nigga, I'm still as the illest considered as one of the coldest

Still-a put a part in a rapper head like Moses

I'm throwback like I'm Motorola

But hoe, I'm cooler than a cup of yogurt

Black flag Crip boy truck soldier

I'm cool with drug lords and Ayatollah's

Rap god cyclops and all the

Bitch I'm King Kong ain't no body told ya?

Fuck you think throats still smooth

Aww fuck it I'm Bobby Brown, I'm bout to go get loaded

Retarded Paul McCartney bitch I'm rich

I'm Muhammad Ali I talk shit

I'm James Brown bout to tear down this bitch

I'm Michael Jackson bitch I'm bad as bad gone get

Fuck you Mean?

Yo wassup, this is Joyner

I'm unable to take your call right now

Leave me a brief message and I'll get back to you, peace

Yo, this is the third time this week that you failed to pick up your son

And I'm just so confused

Like I find it funny that you stay in the studio laying something down

Slanging mixtapes but you have yet to bring home diapers

And lay your kid down and go to sleep

On Snapchat talking 'bout, "Where's the plug?"

Like I'm sure you got national grid tryna cut my lights back on

Like "a dollar and a dream" ass career

And you can't even come home and give us a dollar for some fuckin' milk

I'm not doing this with you

Keep it a 100 my nigga