Lyrical Breakdown of Weeks - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Weeks" 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 "Weeks" 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 "Weeks" 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!

I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks) If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway 'Cause I'm prayin' to the god of the streets (god of the streets) Way too big to be discreet anyway Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas Wonder why my heart cold, nigga soul got the shivers Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (chains off in weeks) Love that shit, too big to be discreet (be discreet) He tried to set me up in Dallas, broke into his own car (hahahaha) He not knowin' that I'm psychic, and I glow in the dark Lied on us while in Houston, we got throwed in the cross Sidestepping 'fore he could set me, punch a hole in my heart (ha) Cold quarantine game, I looked over your flaws Big god, sellin' raw and I'm controllin' the cost (ugh) Diamonds on my neck, that's a symbol of success Run you up a check, you gon' die for your respect Cautious who you entertain, they could be a threat Out of pocket, pull up brrrr on you, leave you somewhere stretched (stretched) Artificial dealings, all my visions then got clearer I cross one in the mirror, I can feel it in my spirit (ooh) I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks) If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway 'Cause I'm prayin' to the god of the streets (god of the streets) Way too big to be discreet anyway Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas Wonder why my heart cold, nigga soul got the shivers Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (chains off in weeks) Love that shit, too big to be discreet (be discreet) G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag C-note, C-note Brr-brr, so much machine smoke Ooh, only ones that ride on side me are the ones willin' to die though Nuh-uh, keep it underwater, let it breathe Right there Just got this brand new thing, grrrah and then exchange when the shots fired Reportin' live, with the Glock .9, by the stop sign Recordin' live, bitch, I'm in the studio right now In Carolina, you could pull up on me right now We outside, yeah Hol' up, pour up, I glisten hard, my earrings, dawg This for Mazzi, Rollie, I never take my chain off Never talkin', I give that, already take your brain off Quarter milli' glist', then I wiped it on my wrist He be shootin' shots at B.R.A.S.S.I. but his posture not like this, bitch I ain't took my chains off in weeks (off in weeks) If I tuck it, they gon' try to kill me anyway 'Cause I'm prayin' to the god of the streets (god of the streets) Way too big to be discreet anyway Hope I fly on the arms of my niggas (arms of my niggas) Wonder why my heart cold, nigga soul got the shivers Baby, I ain't took my chains off in weeks (chains off in weeks) Love that shit, too big to be discreet (be discreet) G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag C-note, C-note Brr-brr, so much machine smoke G-Wag', G-Wag', big bag, big bag C-note, C-note Brr-brr, so much machine smoke