Lyrical Breakdown of Panic Emoji - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "Panic Emoji" not only celebrates JPEGMAFIA'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!

Yesterday I thought I was having a heart attack

Panic Attack

Made a wack beat yesterday

I get ideas in my

I keep smoking weed

And I masturbate constantly

Keep hustling

Keep moving

I'm a nuisance

I'm useless

We fucked

This hurts

I'm a nuisance

DOA to the base

Face wet, legs shake

Grab my chest, feeling faint

These symptoms, can't help them

Where my health went

This hurts

Crackers keep calling me Aces

I put the spade on hook

All of you yuppies is pussy

You ain't never hit a jugg

Ain't no money on your books

I put Lemmy in the grave

I push the golden gun up on ya braids

Pew! Fade

And I'm getting cash you ain't never that, oooh, yeah

Oh, you fucking mad, 'cause I'm counting smack, oooh, yeah

Niggas you's a bitch, you's a fucking hoe, oooh, yeah

I can't tell you

Pull up on 'em with the stick talk

Nigga you ain't bout that brick talk

Fuck with me you get shot

Shoo, shoo

I am a thot

Fuck it

I am a opp

Wrist cut

Wrist cut

Wrist cut

Grey death on the block

It's really just a panic attack...