Lyrical Breakdown of Young Jesus - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

Lyric Overview: Witness how Logic feat. Big Lenbo weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Young Jesus" 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 feat. Big Lenbo 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 feat. Big Lenbo's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Young Jesus" not only celebrates Logic feat. Big Lenbo'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!

Yeah, yeah What up Bobby This that 95 shit right here Take 'em back to the 90s! Okay, now take a trip inside my mind like you was off to Venice It's me and B-I-G L-N-B-O cooking like chemists Take them back to way back when like Dennis, The Menace Causing mayhem on the come up like a young apprentice Smoking weed and getting higher than a flight attendant Hip-hop descendant, gold Jesus on my pendant Got to pull it out for everyone that's in attendance Okay, back in the day as a college park tenant Still can't believe I didn't get a shorty pregnant Man, that's the definition of a life sentence A whole lot of beef, no bread, no lettuce 'Cause I couldn't keep it in my briefs, man that's pathetic Fuck all that back and forth, this ain't a game of tennis I'll be in my mothafuckin' chamber like the senate Scared to go outside but I know I can't prevent it I'm, forever alone in my mind See I'm a self diagnosed hypochondriac Either at the crib, or on the tour bus is where you'll find me at Yeah, I know that I'm livin' like I got it okay, yeah But I swear that I'm not that neurotic over here, yeah Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Ayo, fuck all that, it's the fat young Jesus Flow prestigious Stackin' money and playing the field man like Regis Better believe us or leave us Grabbin' your bitches' cleavage like, oo-ah I went from surveying to Super Saiyan slayin' the man Bitches want an autograph, I sign them titties in crayon Like goddamn It's me and B-I-G-L-N-B-O cooking like chemists It's me and B-I-B-I-B-I-G L-N-B-L-N-B-O Posted in the club in baggy jeans and a beanie Sippin' on a martini, takin' my pick at bitches like eenie meenie I'm unscannable, young cannibal Eat wack MCs like Hannibal 'Cause Joe Pesci's my spirit animal Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Over here, over here Okay the flow delicious, bounty huntin' like Sid Vicious The young Spiegle, interstellar with my retrieval Furthest from evil, I throw this shit back like medieval I spit at it like a Baretta, you know I get better by givin' the people Not a fuck given, check the method, that's how we livin' Always been driven, out of sight and yet never hidden The Return of the Jedi, bitch I bet I do the show and catch a red eye Ho I said I leave 'em dead, I know I do This shit is overdue Pass me the fifth and I'm comin' through The B-I-G-L-E-N-B-O on the way to Rio Ay dios mio, lookin' for a Latin Leo To hold a brother down like the white man Fuck that, nigga Ayo enough's enough, man of my word, I never bluff Even in a pair of cuffs know we always keep it real Like goddamn, don't even step like I ain't the man I'm just 301 reppin', second I step in Maryland I gotta conceal it like a murder weapon I kept in the glove, Ratt Pack you know it's all love We the realest so fuck you if you ain't feel this Throw a Molotov in your crib and tell them bitches to bill us We the illest Finger fuck a critic, shit is darker than The Chronicles of Riddick Yes I did it, while they bit it, you know we got it Smack you with the palm, save the back for your mom Sound the alarm, you know we got it goin' on