Lyrical Breakdown of Gucci Gang (Remix) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Gucci Gang (Remix)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Joyner Lucas weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Gucci Gang (Remix)" 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 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's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Gucci Gang (Remix)" not only celebrates Joyner Lucas'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!
Yuh, yuh, uh
Woo, (Joyner), yuh, yuh, yuh, yup
Pandora, Pandora, Pandora
I don't really fuck with no... (yo)
Gucci gang, Louis gang, Fendi gang, Dolce gang
'Sace gang, Prada gang, lot of gangs (Woo)
I don't really fuck with no brand names (Woah)
Joyner 'bout to go on a rampage (Ooh)
They don't wanna see me let the chopper bang, yeah
Get this bitch jumping like Shabba Ranks, ooh
What's a Lil Pump to a rocket flame, yeah
Turn your pink dreads into pocket chains (Woo)
All you new rappers don't be talkin' 'bout shit except doin' drugs
Wonder how you got a name (Damn)
Sippin' lean, takin' E, Percocets,
Purple drank, Xanax, everything sound the same, fuck
Bunch of drug addicts in the house of pain (Woo)
Hope you niggas suffer til you pop a vein, yeah
This shit made your mother wanna ovulate, yeah
This shit make conductors wanna stop a train
Gucci, Fendi, Louis, Prada, Dolce (Dolce)
Back when I was broke and no one know me (Woah)
I couldn't afford it and now that I got the money
I don't even want this shit 'cause it ain't for me (Joyner)
I always been myself, you don't know me (Woah)
Yeah I was so depressed, I was lonely
The man on the horse, all I had was Ralph Lauren
Then I went and signed a deal and bought a pony (Woah)
Yeah I'm taking it back and then I'm smacking you bitches and laughing
And I'm killing them, hacking them,
and sending your body right back to them
You wonder what's happening
I'm flipping new syllables, acronyms
I guess I'ma practice it
You fuckers are fucking embarrassing (Pow pow)
You ain't gonna be happy when I'm on top and I'm gonna be popping
All of you gonna be dropping like birds dropping all on your conscious
All you niggas watchin I'm spittin', slap all on your coffin, R.I.P
You lost and you fuckas sleepin'
you're pillow talkin' (Pow pow pow pow)
And you dream all day, that's per year (Per year)
All you hoe niggas leave your purse here (Purse here)
I am your favorite rapper's worst fear (Why?)
Raised in the mud crying, dirt tears (Woah)
Just a bunch of kids in the high chair
Couldn't get a buzz even if you had lightyear
Wouldn't get no love even if your heart's right here
Niggas got guns so nobody want to fight fair, no
Hit 'em with the Ric Flair and the suplex
I ain't never been scared, bitch, I'm ruthless (Woo)
Raised by the ghetto
Know some gangs that'll get 'em
Split 'em right down the middle like a fuckin' duplex
Break a nigga toes, make 'em do the two-step
Crib full of hoes, now I feel like Hugh Hef
Got a bad stripper bitch, all we do is have sex
And she love suckin' dick so I call her loose neck (Woah)
Makin' a panic with my shit and I'm flippin' up banisters
I'm ready to handle and dismantle and crush and vanish
I hit 'em and send 'em into walls, then I got' em enchanted
Then my fuckin hands that holdin the hammer bangin' and slammin'
Killin' 'em in the ambulance,
they dyin', they bleedin', they tremblin'
I'm really sick and I got a stiff as a fuckin' mannequin
I paint a picture a Picasso vision, all on my cellophane
I got 'em swingin' they on my dick and grabbin my pants again
Now, uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco (Cinco)
I ain't Spanish but I know the lingo (Lingo)
Atlantic told me that my flow a hundred
But my album ain't come unless I got a fuckin' single
Well I don't give a fuck about no hit record
I'ma just remix y'all shit and get big off it
I'ma just murder every mother fucking beat while I'm
dreaming of gettin' paid in my mother fuckin' sleep, goddamn
Gucci gang, Louis gang, Fendi gang, Dolce gang
'Sace gang, Prada gang, lot of gangs (Woah)
I don't really fuck with no brand names
Joyner 'bout to go on a rampage, ooh
They don't wanna see me let the chopper bang (Yeah)
Get this bitch jumping like Shabba Ranks, yeah
What's a Lil Pump to a rocket flame, woo
Gucci gang, Fendi gang, Prada gang (Yeah)
All you new rappers don't be talkin' 'bout shit except doin' drugs
Wonder how you got a name, uh
Sippin' lean, takin' E, Percocets,
Purple drank, Xanax, everything sound the same, fuck
Bunch of drug addicts in the house of pain (Bruh)
And all you niggas suffer til you pop a vein, uh
Gucci gang, Fendi gang, Prada gang (Woo)
I don't really fuck with no brand names, yeah