Lyrical Breakdown of Response Diss - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Response Diss" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Latto weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Response Diss" 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 Latto 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 Latto's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Response Diss" not only celebrates Latto'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!
Latto let her know
Stupid
How these folks talking 'bout they
Talking about they getting money
But ain't getting money? (Dummy)
Talking 'bout they booking shows
But ain't booking shows (dummy)
You wasn't talking about nothing
When I touched down in Houston
'Cause you know better huh (stupid)
First thing first
When you grew some balls?
Stop playing, you couldn't even pick up the phone
When I called
What I did in Houston
I dare you to pull that in the south
15 with 15 bodies
My flow nasty like her draws
Lil' thot bye
How both of yo' parents in the crack pot?
Pipe down
'Cause we both know yee ain't what you rap about
You a joke
Tell yo' mama come work at my store
Shoulda never quit her job
Just to bring a L home
I'm too old
Well, my lil' sister 14 and she on go
I swear to God when we see you
Either one of us gon' wipe yo' nose
I did a show in yo' city and I left untouched
I'm the princess in the A and the H
Now what's up?
You ain't gon' buck huh?
And let's not get on yo' daddy
That man really gay (why?)
'Cause yo' mama a tranny
I already peeped, huh
Why her voice so deep?
I'ma beat this girl to sleep
Have her counting white sheep
Ooh, she talkin' hard
That lisp got her trippin' huh
I'ma put some money on her head like she strippin'
I know yo' daddy a roadie
Just tell me what he sniffin' (crackhead)
I'ma put a dent in her chin
Like she Peter Griffin
Yeah, she got me bent
Talkin' 'bout that she rich (girl, you's a liar)
Girl, they use yo' rap game check
To pay the rent
Don't flex
You text my phone
Talkin' 'bout "Girl, let's just be friends"
Really feel bad for the H
This who ya'll let represent
By the way you really soft
You cried in the rap game house like everyday (lil' cry baby)
And no, I didn't sign
I keep everything I make
Tell the truth
Let's just be honest
They shoulda let you win that chain
'Cause I know you tired of asking
Johnny Dang to borrow bling
This is big ole facts
I'm finna call D facts
I would beat you up
But yo' mama already does that
She want beef, it's a plate
Call me ugly? Issa hate
And my heart might pump Kool-Aid
'Cause sweet girls like you get ate
You only get booked
When promoters can't afford me
Ran this girl up out her city
Like I did extortion
Stomp her out and put her on a shoe like she Jordan
I just killed this baby
Like she did her abortion
Ooh, no, you didn't
Yeah, y'all know who I be
Folks get hard on Twitter
But can't pick up the phone
Really run my city for real
The real princess that way
(Ahh)
You really look up to me though
Tell the truth, yeah
I could be yo' mama lil' girl
Stop playing with me
I ain't even finna call my daddy on yo' daddy
And I run the A
All the way to the H
(And yo' mama can get it too)
And I run the A
All the way to the H (ya lil' sister, ya lil' brother)
Goofy
Put a cape on it
I bet they be Supa mad