Lyrical Breakdown of Gifted - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "Gifted" not only celebrates Kanye West'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!

Hey eh I'm known for running my mouth I will not be accountable for what comes out uh I don't know I might of said it I was kinda gone and light-headed My jacket kinda fresh, bright red-ed And as usual my pants tight threaded It seem like everybody dress tight now And I just want my credit Don't get it twisted or dreaded I am the king and will not be-headed To the mall no time soon brethren Being broke made my head hurt So I need the bread or an Excedrin That'll only get my engine revvin' While y'all on ten, I'm on eleven I'mma make the news, be on at seven Matter fact, I'm on this very second I'm in first and y'all in second And this verse only add to the freshness Call to the club, tell 'em add to the guest list What you think? Way more bitches Y'all mutha fuckas know who this is I'm gifted, Merry Christmas... Merry Christmas I'm armed with pens And I got my rhymes Whatever comes, I'll write it down So knock me out And shoot me down With mics in hand We'll stand against the test of time You don't know my mind Like I said a thousand times I try to stay ahead Know what I'm fighting for I leave you to your talk Never seen my kind before And you're all so thick headed Follow and I know I led it Part of me won't me quit Won't let me just not say shit So much there to be bored with Can't be still, I can't afford it Try to hold it in but it makes me sick So I spit it out, say the hell with it I dream it and I build it tall Make a way for when it falls I'm armed with pens And I got my rhymes Whatever comes, I'll write it down So knock me out And shoot me down With mics in hand We'll stand against the test of time I'm armed with pens And I got my rhymes Whatever comes, I'll write it down So knock me out And shoot me down With mics in hand We'll stand against the test of time