Lyrical Breakdown of Everyday (feat. Rick Ross) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Everyday (feat. Rick Ross)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how Meek Mill weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Everyday (feat. Rick Ross)" 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 Meek Mill 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 Meek Mill's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Everyday (feat. Rick Ross)" not only celebrates Meek Mill'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!

Meek ain't countin' money no more If it ain't right, it ain't right Zip the bag up MMG Drop it right there (yeah) Huh (M-Maybach Music) I got these niggas hatin' on me But I don't give a fuck Because their bitches waitin' on me I'm just countin' all this money (huh, huh) And buyin' all these hammers So when these niggas play I let my shooters go bananas Diamonds flashin' like a camera (huh, huh) My whip sounds like a monster My bitch got on that shit, she got a million dollar sponsor (ha) (Ugh) these niggas gettin' sick (they sick) Somebody call a doctor (ha) 'Cause all this blood's drippin', twenty racks I Louboutin her (woo) I got Dolce and Gabbana (woo) Gucci, Louis, Prada (woo, woo, woo) Fly as hell in YSL, 'cause boy I got a lotta (woo, woo, woo, woo) Madre and cabanas That's where they probably find us (woo, woo, woo, woo) Jumpin' off the jet, like sayonara to ya honor (honor) I spoil them bitches (huh) I employ them niggas (huh) Wipe my ass with the riches Like it's some toilet tissue (toilet tissue) Fuck with a winner (woo, woo) Minks in the winter (woo, woo) Philadelphia millionaire, Meek be that nigga (Meek be that nigga) Your niggas hatin' (hatin') My niggas ballin' (ballin') Poppin' bands gettin', countin' dollas Buyin' the Magnum bottles (M-Maybach Music) My bitch is patient (patient) Your bitch is borin' Fucked her that Friday night, we both woke up that Sunday mornin' Yeah Young nigga, lot of cash (woo, woo) Bad bitch, lotta ass (woo, woo) Lamborghini, kinda fast It got these haters kinda mad (skrrt) Make me bring them sticks out AK with the comma, and (sticks) These niggas is kinda nice Which means that they kinda ass I be on all kinds of shit Boy, I get all kinds of cash Monday, I'ma wear my J's Tuesday in my Prada bag Wednesday I go Louboutin And say, "How you been?" I say, "Doin' fine" Bitch I ball hard like two Lebrons I hit the booth, no suit and tie I'm Superman (woo, woo) My bitch is super fly (woo, woo) I make a hater wanna kill himself, suicide (blah) A nigga play at me (me) He knows it's do-or-die (die) 'Cause I got a big mac (yeah) And that bitch, be super-sized (sized) Rollin' with a hundred goons Boy I got a hunnid jewels 'Bout to fuck a hunnid hoes All them bitches comin' soon Tell 'em that I'm comin' now Tell 'em I'ma come in cool Boy my shit be super hot I named my album 'Summer June' (Summer June) I spoil them bitches (huh) I employ them niggas (huh) Wipe my ass with the riches Like it's some toilet tissue (toilet tissue) Fuck with a winner (woo, woo) Minks in the winter (woo, woo) Philadelphia millionaire, Meek be that nigga (Meek be that nigga) Your niggas hatin' (hatin') My niggas ballin' (ballin') Poppin' bands, countin' dollas Buyin' them Magnum bottles (M-Maybach Music) My bitch is patient (patient) Your bitch is borin' Fucked her that Friday night, we both woke up this Sunday mornin' (Sunday mornin', Sunday mornin') Bugatti and Rozay 'Bout to meet Jose (Jose) (woo, woo, woo, woo) He said that that workin' (that work) I was like, "Okay" (okay) She say, "Give me money" (money) I was like, "No way" (no) She got mad and text my phone "It ain't no work if it ain't no pay" I'm like, "Be gone, bitch" (woo, woo) Be gone, bitch (woo, woo) I'll pop a Perc (woo, woo) Turn on my on switch Them bitches ain't on that (that) Nigga, 'cause they on this (this) You put em' on money And I put em' on dick, really though I spoil them bitches (huh) I employ them niggas (huh) Wipe my ass with the riches Like it's some toilet tissue (toilet tissue) Fuck with the winner (woo, woo) Minks in the winter (woo, woo) Philadelphia millionaire, Meek be that nigga (Meek be that nigga) Your niggas hatin' (hatin') My niggas ballin' (ballin') Poppin' bands, countin' dollas Buyin' them Magnum bottles (M-Maybach Music) My bitch is patient (patient) Your bitch is borin' Fucked her that Friday night, we both woke up this Sunday mornin' (Sunday mornin', Sunday mornin') Can I ask a favor? (Can I ask a favor? Can I ask a favor?) Please embrace that Meek is just that bull now (Just that bull now, just that bull now, just that bull now) Why fight it? (Why fight it? Why fight it? Why fight it?) You're doing yourself, a disservice