Lyrical Breakdown of Notebook - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Notebook" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Lil Durk weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Notebook" 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 Lil Durk 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 Lil Durk's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Notebook" not only celebrates Lil Durk'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!
(Ay, pull up, Lam)
I'm so tired of you tellin' me that he sorry (sorry)
Missin' my shows and meet and greets like I ain't an artist (artists)
Love to take drugs to keep me above, I'm just honest (honest)
They know who I am, they make up rumors, I'm honest (honest)
He ain't support like he used to, he said I'm garbage (garbage)
Now he at my shows, askin' for tickets like we partners
I'll check on my partner mom before I ever check on my followers
I fuck with a throat GOAT, but she graduated to a swallower
You know who you is, you know what you did
You know who you was, you know, dirty bitch
You know goofy niggas, you know different cliques
You know how you mad, you know I'm the shit
You ain't support me at all, how you say you my dawg?
Told you, I lost it all, you ain't even come call
Watchin' story from a fake page and I seen 'em shoppin' at the mall
Told him I need a handout, he ain't respond to me at all
Four pockets full, full of hunnids, 40 million cash from a label
I ain't fallin' out with my homies, call 'em, tell 'em, put it on the table
Before it was bails, bonds, I paid cash, I ain't never say I ain't able
Broke bitch asked for a crib, petty ass, got the bitch a craddle
I know what you did, so I hate you, I know what you did for the paper
Why you called the police on yo' man? He on papers, you know they gon' take him
Put a four of Pai in my Crush, I ain't fuck online with my nuts
Wuk shoot, I rely on his guts, benji boys, I know he gon' clutch
Trench baby, dirty lil' bastard, soul hurt, ain't walk up to the casket
Why I pour a cup and I'm fastin'? I just tucked the Drac' in my jacket
Industry puttin' me in beef, why do that? I'm signed to the streets
Pull up on 'em, frrt, frrt, frrt (baow), why the fuck I'm arguin' over beats?
Brodie pulled up in the steamer, it's stolen 'cause he ain't even got the key
Thought about puttin' pounds on the jet, I ain't do it 'cause they was checkin' IDs
Thought about puttin' pounds on the jet, I ain't do it 'cause they gon' put it on me
Thought about puttin' pounds on the jet, but the Juice WRLD shit be scarin' me (uh)
Put this in my notebook (whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa)
This shit right here, no hook (whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa)
Put this in my notebook (whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa)
This shit right here, no hook