Lyrical Breakdown of Flex - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Flex" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Playboi Carti weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Flex" 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 Playboi Carti 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 Playboi Carti's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Flex" not only celebrates Playboi Carti'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!
All of these bitches, they mad, ooh
All of these niggas, they mad, ooh
All of these bitches, they mad, ooh
All of these niggas, they mad, ooh
I walk in the bank and I laugh, ooh
I walk in the bank and I laugh, ooh
I walk in the bank and I laugh, ooh
Ooh, walk with a bag, ooh
Sad, ooh, sad, ooh, mad, ooh
All of these niggas, they mad, ooh
All of these niggas, they mad, ooh
Walk in the buildin', I flex on that boy
I flex on that boy with the bag, ooh
Ice on my neck and my mama like
"Boy, where you get all of that cash?"
I got the bag (Ooh), ice on my wrist
Mama like, "Where you get this?"
I got her sad (Ooh), gave her a brick
Then I gave her a lil' kiss, ooh
Yeah, I rock out in the six (six)
But nigga, we fire, we split
I'm takin' your shit, you college kid, ooh
We really be poppin' shit, ooh
I hit a lick, no kid, ooh
I had a lick but no bih, ooh
She suck me up like a tick, ooh
Damn my weed smell like a pit, ooh
He do that talkin', he simp, ooh
Damn that bitch got a lil' thick, ooh
I told that bitch to come in
I told that bitch to come in
All of these bitches, they mad, ooh
All of these niggas, they mad, ooh
All of these bitches, they mad, ooh
All of these niggas, they mad, ooh
I walk in the bank and I laugh, ooh
I walk in the bank and I laugh, ooh
I walk in the bank and I laugh, ooh
Ooh, walk with a bag, ooh
Sad, ooh, sad, ooh, mad, ooh
All of these niggas, they mad, ooh
All of these niggas, they mad, ooh
Walk in the buildin', I flex on that boy
I flex on that boy with the bag, ooh
Ice on my neck and my mama like
"Boy, where you get all of that cash?", ayy
Yeah, who the fuck is you talkin' to, nigga?
The fuck you think this is?
You think 'cause you got a couple dollars you a fuckin' playboy?
Nigga, you ain't no fuckin' playboy, nigga
You ain't nothin', nigga
Fuck outta here, Carti
Fuck outta here
Don't call my phone with that shit, my nigga
Real mad
Nigga, I don't ever get mad (Is you mad or what?)
This nigga trippin'
Girl, that's bad for us
Say you mad for once
Said she had enough
Girl, that's bad for us
She came back for once
Yeah it's probably done
She gon' back that ass
I'm gonna spaz for us
Girl, that's bad for us
Say you mad for once
Said she had enough
Girl, that's bad for us
I guess you're not feelin' me, uh
Not feelin' the energy
Baby girl, we can do plan A
Baby girl, we can do plan B, ooh
I walk in that bitch, they playin' my shit
Walk in that bitch, eyes on the kicks
Walk in that bitch, eyes on the fit
I look at your bitch, then blow her a kiss (Mwah, ooh)
I got that deuce in the coupe, huh
Got a white bitch like YesJulz, huh
All of my niggas, they fool, huh
Look at that boy, look at his jewels
All of my niggas, they bool, huh
Louboutins bleed in the booth, ooh
These niggas, they lookin' like who?
Ooh, cash, cash, cash
My outfit just made the front page, uh
Hop off the plane, I run to the stage, yeah, ooh
Your hoe gettin' laid, yeah, ayy
She might come in late
I heard that your nigga Atlanta
I heard that your nigga LA
I heard that your nigga a lame
Might sing on a bitch, ayy
Might sing on this shit
Might sing on a bitch
I might just sing on this shit
I might just sing on this shit
I might sing on this shit
I might just sing on this shit