Lyrical Breakdown of John Gotti - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "John Gotti" not only celebrates Kevin Gates'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!

Bet a lot of pussy niggas wanna murder Brasi Boulevard, Mar-a-Lago and a Maserati Boobie Black, Gunna, and Menace still will catch a body And if you fuck around with Rayzor, bitch I'm out my body Sideways, skrrt, coupe be out my body Whole clique pull up in 'Vettes, bitch we out our body And you ever disrespect it, then it's kamikaze I just be with me a shooter like I'm John Gotti I feel like John Gotti (Put your hands down, when you talkin' to me, bitch) John Gotti 'Cause it ain't shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti It ain't shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti My cousin CJ tryna to hit me with a brick of raw In Alexandria, it's nothing for to get it gone With music, I ain't won awards, but I kept it gangster Gon' be a god in New Orleans like that nigga Daymond Landlord in the south like my nigga Lucci Corvette in front of David Ways screeching free Lee Lucas Fuck that nigga bitch, I got her saying free Lee Lucas (free Lee Lucas) Beeto and Bryan bitch, I just got off the phone with em My old friends hating, sending me the wrong signals My dawg recorded conversations, man what's wrong with him? You got them college niggas fooled, I be with stone killers Bet a lot of pussy niggas wanna murder Brasi Boulevard, Mar-a-Lago and a Maserati Boobie Black, Gunna, and Menace still will catch a body And if you fuck around with Rayzor, bitch I'm out my body Sideways, skrrt, coupe be out my body Whole clique pull up in 'Vettes, bitch we out our body And you ever disrespect it, then it's kamikaze I just be with me a shooter like I'm John Gotti I feel like John Gotti (Put your hands down, when you talkin' to me, bitch) John Gotti 'Cause it ain't shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti It ain't shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti Praise to Allah, I was born a god, with the murder game I'm righteous Cancel shows just for Rayzor wedding, I don't know another just like it (I love) I love Bunker, but despite the love, I don't know what made him dislike it But me and Gunna in the Porsche truck and we screeching off like lightning Fast, doing the dash, your bitch on my ass, she want me to smash Flip out and flash, I'd rather get cash Dreka she bad and she into bags Up in the Louis, Emilio Pucci I tell 'em it's Gucci when they want them bands I got them racks and no longer wear jewelry 'Cause I'm bout my business, and back selling sand I don't get tired I'm 'bout my business, and back selling sand I'm 'bout my business, and back selling sand (I'm 'bout my business, and back selling sand I'm 'bout my business, and back selling sand) Bet a lot of pussy niggas wanna murder Brasi Boulevard, Mar-a-Lago and a Maserati Boobie Black, Gunna, and Menace still will catch a body And if you fuck around with Rayzor, bitch I'm out my body Sideways, skrrt, coupe be out my body Whole clique pull up in 'Vettes, bitch we out our body And you ever disrespect it, then it's kamikaze I just be with me a shooter like I'm John Gotti I feel like John Gotti (Put your hands down, when you talkin' to me, bitch) John Gotti 'Cause it ain't shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti It ain't shit to send a hit, I feel like John Gotti