Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Only" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Only" 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Only" not only celebrates undefined'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!
Yo
Never fucked Wayne, I never fucked Drake
On my life, man, fuck's sake
If I did, I'd ménage with'em and let 'em eat my ass, like a cupcake
My man full, he just ate
I don't duck nobody, but tape
Yeah, that was a set-up for a punchline on duct tape
Wo-wo-wo-worried 'bout if my butt fake
Worry-worry 'bout y'all niggas, us straight
Th-these girls are my sons, Jo-Jon & Kate Plus Eight
When I walk in, sit up straight
I don't give a fuck if I was late
Dinner with my man on a G5, is my idea of a update
Hut-hut one, hut-hut two, big titties, big butt too
Fu-fuck with them real niggas who don't tell niggas what they up to
Had to show bitches where the top is, ri-ring finger where the rock is
The-these hoes couldn't test me, even if their name was Pop Quiz
Bad bitches who I fuck wit, ma-ma-mad bitches we don't fuck with
I don't fuck with them chickens unless they last name is Cutlet
Let it soak in like seasoning
And tell 'em bitches blow me, Lance Stephenson
Raise every bottle and cup in the sky
Sparks in the air like the Fourth of July
Nothing but bad bitches in here tonight
Oh, if you lame and you know it be quiet
Nothing but real niggas only
Bad bitches only
Rich niggas only
Independent bitches only
Boss niggas only
Thick bitches only
I got my real niggas here by my side, only
I never fucked Nicki 'cause she got a man
But when that's over then I'm first in line
And the other day in her Maybach
I thought, "Goddamn, this is the perfect time"
We had just come from that video
You know, L.A. traffic, how the city slow
She was sitting down on that big butt
But I was still staring at the titties though
Yeah, low-key it may be high-key
I been peeped that you like me, you know?
Who the f- you really wanna be with besides me? I mean
It doesn't take much for us to do this shit quietly, I mean
She say I'm obsessed with thick women and I agree
Yeah, that's right, I like my girls BBW
Yeah, type that wanna suck you dry and then eat some lunch with you
Yeah, so thick that everybody else in the room is so uncomfortable
Ass on Houston Texas, but the face look just like Clair Huxtable
Oh! Yeah, you the man in the city when the mayor fuck with you
The NBA players fuck with you
The bad-ass bitches doing makeup and hair fuck with you
Oh, that's 'cause I believe in something, I stand for it
And Nicki if you ever tryna fuck
Just give me the heads-up, so I can plan for it
Raise every bottle and cup in the sky (ayy)
Sparks in the air like the Fourth of July
Nothing but bad bitches in here tonight
Oh, if you lame and you know it be quiet
Nothing but real niggas only
Bad bitches only
Rich niggas only
Independent bitches only
Boss niggas only
Thick bitches only
I got my real niggas here by my side, only
I never fucked Nick' and that's fucked up
If I did fuck, she'd be fucked up
Whoever is hittin', ain't hittin' it right
'Cause she act like she need dick in her life
That's another story, I'm no story teller
I piss greatness, like goldish yellow
All my goons, so overzealous
I'm from Hollygrove, the holy Mecca
Calender say I got money for days
I squirm and I shake, but I'm stuck in my ways
My girlfriend will beat a bitch up, if she wave
They bet' not fuck with her surfboard, surfboard
My eyes are so bright, I take cover for shade
Don't have my money? Take mothers instead
You got the hiccups, you swallowed the truth
Then I make you burp, boy, treat beef like sirloin
I'm talkin' 'bout runnin' in houses with army guns
So think about your son and daughter rooms
Got two hoes with me, masked up, they got smaller guns
Ain't thinkin' bout your son and daughter rooms
This shit is crazy, my nigga
I mean brazy, my nigga
That money talk, I just rephrase it, my nigga
Blood gang, take the "b" off behavior, my nigga
Lookin' for reals, if you mouth off I blow your face off
I mean pop-pop-pop then I take off
Nigga, now you see me, nigga, now you don't
Like Jamie Foxx acting like Ray Charles
16 in a clip, one in the chamber, 17 Ward bully with 17 bullets
My story is how I went from "poor me"
To "please pour me a drink and celebrate with me"
Raise every bottle and cup in the sky
Sparks in the air like the Fourth of July
Nothing but bad bitches in here tonight
Oh, if you lame and you know it be quiet (Young Mula, baby!)
Nothing but real niggas only
Bad bitches only
Rich niggas only
Independent bitches only
Boss niggas only
Thick bitches only
I got my real niggas here by my side, only