Lyrical Breakdown of City Of Stars - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Logic weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "City Of Stars" 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 Logic 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 Logic's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "City Of Stars" not only celebrates Logic'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 know that you think this song is for you I used to long for you and adore you My life was just fine way back before you Now when you reach out I just ignore you 'Cause this ain't a love song (woah) This is, "So long" You did me so wrong for so long For so long, so long No I never thought I could live my life without you All you ever seem to do is scream and make it all about you And so I doubt you I doubt you even know what's on my mind I said, I doubt you I doubt you even know why I left you behind I know that I've been living I know that I've been living I know that I've been living I know that I've been living In the city of stars, where there's flying cars A brand new home for everyone and even life on Mars In the city of stars, where there's flying cars A brand new home for everyone and even life on Mars 'Cause this ain't a love song (woah) This is, "So long" You did me so wrong for so long For so long, so long And so I doubt you I doubt you even know what's on my mind I said, I doubt you I doubt you even know how I left you Yeah, uh, yeah Much love to Def Jam, even though they under-shipped me Did me like Bobby did Whitney, but the fans was with me Know my name around the world, but it still ain't hit me All the talent in the world and they still don't get me I didn't talk about my race on the whole first album But black vs. white bullshit was the still the outcome How come these motherfuckers can't seem to let it go? Judging rap by race instead of the better flow Who gives a fuck who made it? I penetrate it and innovate it While they emulate it, give a fuck if I'm hated I'ma do it 'til I get it, fuck a nominated Bitch, I dominate it Yeah, emails from Rick Rubin, dinner with No ID Chilling with B-I-G D-A-Double-D-Y K-A-N-E Not many get to what I do and now enemies Thinking they slick as fuck like the finna befriending me But let's get back to the music, I'm gone Outside of this solar system I'm searching for paradise Livin' the life, bitch, I've been a vet Fuck all these cats on the internet I love Hip Hop and I hate Hip Hop 'Cause people that love Pac hope that Drake get shot 'Cause he raps about money and bitches, for heaven's sake Pac did the same shit, just on a drum break Now I ain't wanna name names, I'm just droppin' this game We all people, all equal Now let me let off, yeah Now let me let off Tougher than raw denim, my flow you can't identify Talib said it best back in the day, we just tryna get by Two words, Mos Def, in my headphones Black on one side, now I'm in another zone Switch flows, fuck 'em up Play the game, run 'em up Yeah, I sold a couple records but people don't give a fuck All the people want is real, guess that's why Logic appeal All the power in the world, hold that, tell me how that feel? Racism on television and magazines Paying taxes so soldiers don't run out of magazines, goddamn Country don't give a fuck who I am Just a youngin' on the rise with a mic in my hand And I am, here's to the Roc The .45 Glock that my older brother pop, shot And I am, finally on top Too high up, not a drop Stop, we gettin' guap, gettin' guap I am livin' like I ain't got it Spit the flow so robotic, man who gives a fuck about it? Maryland 'til I die but I had to get the fuck up out it I love it and hate it, you probably don't know man, I doubt it