Lyrical Breakdown of Funkin' Around - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Funkin' Around" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how OutKast weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Funkin' Around" 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 OutKast 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 OutKast's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Funkin' Around" not only celebrates OutKast'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!
Hello, well good evening, ladies and gentlemen
What we like to do right here—well first of all, let me let you know who I am
Well, I go by the name of André 3000, right?
And we hail from a little place called like Stankonia, Georgia, right?
You know, right now everybody wants to be from space
And like want to be from the country and everything like that
You know, like, really, like, the South
It's like cool to be from the South right about now
Girls, listen up
Torn between Saturday night and early Sunday morn'
I don't know, I'm somewhere stuck in between-tween
I'm out here knowin' hip hop is dead
The average nigga on my corner yellin'
"What the fuck you mean-mean?"
See, we ain't even seen the mountaintop
Counterclockwise goes the neighborhood
Hand-me-downs and canned goods
Won't cut the Grey Poupon
We got to make you run back to the drawing board
Can't afford to lose,
Y'all make me yawn
One slash one slash ninety-one
My teacher sees potential in me, said, "Sit down, son"
And let me tell you like I heard it when I felt deserted
It wasn't no other way to word it, got my feelings murdered
By the bullet of bad,
The singer of sad
Songs to make you long for your mom and your dad
Plaid clash with polka dots, I hope you ain't mad
Back up little mama, I'm about to react
Yep, we ain't just funking around, ah-ah
Nope, you don't want to see me clown, ah-ah
Nope, tomorrow sounds like right now, ah-ah
People have your party and please don't be late
It's time to bounce, rock, roller skate,
Bounce, rock, roller skate
Hey, sexy mama there's no time to waste
It's time to bounce, rock, roller skate,
Bounce, rock, roller skate
Grab your partner,
Roll around, and feel the sound, ah baby
People have your party, don't be late
It's time to bounce, rock, roller skate
Bounce, rock, roller skate
While Scotty is beamin', lil' Pookie 'nem schemin'
What's the use of living, my nigga?
While you snoozing, I'm dreamin', I'm Tylenol PM
You amount to the same thing every day like per diem
Never tryin' to be nothing better than what you're being
One nation under the cool should be the rule
When a young man or young lady begins or starts grade school
Silence before violence
Nine times out of ten times, the quietest is the livest
Fumblin' through your privates
Daddy Fat Sax, can they have your back? Naw!
Ooh! You're such a playa
Ooh! Your Southern drawl got me sprawled out
In your black book, my name was crossed out
Went from starting to second-string, now in the doghouse (Woof!)
Reminiscing, the party you was missing
Instead of arguments, you think about the hugs and kisses
If this is something hard for you to take
You better bounce, rock, roller-skate
Yep, we ain't just funkin' around, ah-ah
Nope, you don't want to see me clown, ah-ah
Nope, tomorrow sounds like right now, ah-ah
Yep, we ain't just funkin' around, ah-ah
André and Big Boi presents: Outkast