Lyrical Breakdown of The Mood - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "The Mood" not only celebrates Kid Cudi'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!

Yep, yep Shades over my eyes Make the creepers look back at themselves Sitting stuck in emotional bliss The skinny amount of girls with coke on their gums Tap my knee, I'm keepin' the rhythm The young and wild take chances together They all jump up, twist and groove But no one talks, lost in the motherfuckin' mood No one talks, lost in the mood No one talks, sweatin' it out, lost in the mood Hey, there's a hunger in the night The moonlight kissing the nips on the model frame I kissed her inner thigh Closed my eyes, she began to make me fit She like to go the mile, all the while I can see her tear bit, I forgot her name Something that sounds like Penelope May be a French twang to it Tongue was quick, she was French I knew it A lovely foreigner, foreign to racism She like the young nigga by my brown skin My shag dog fro, I'm king to her She will please her friend for me So funny and they'll starve in the garden Naked as always, honest Her hands all over my privates Lost in the mood No one talks, lost in the mood No one talks, sweatin' it out, lost in the mood But no one talks, lost in the motherfuckin' mood No one talks, lost in the mood No one talks, sweatin' it out, lost in the mood