Welcome to the detailed analysis of "I'm Not A Star" 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 "I'm Not A Star" 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.
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Maybach Music
Check
I'm not a star (me), somebody lied
I got a pistol in the car (ha), a .45
If I die today, remember me like John Lennon (ha)
Buried in Louie, I'm talkin' all brown linen
Make all of my bitches tattoo my logo on they titty
Put a statue of a nigga in the middle of the city (ugh)
Load up the choppers like it's December 31st
Roll up and cock it and hit them niggas where it hurts (ayy)
Told on my partner and helped them crackers give him 30
I told him I got it, therefore, I gotta do you dirty (I gotta)
Back on my biz, been in this bitch since 8:30
Scoop me a dime, now makin' off at 10:30
Goin' on 12:00, go home and tell that man a lie
I got a bake sale, bitch, it's 30 for the pie (Ross)
It's nine for the slice, dummy, that's a Dan Marino (what)
Talkin' quarterbacks, meaning, talkin' quarter-kilos (ayy)
Niggas feel my pain, I ain't even gotta say it (boss)
Where I come from, if you open it, you payin'
How I can save when all my niggas in the can? (Can)
Am I my brother's keeper? Motherfucker, take my hand (me)
Pull up to the club, I got a kilo in the car
Black card but a nigga spendin' c-notes at the bar
I'm not a star
I'm not a star
I'm not a star
I'm not a star
All black Lamborghini, smokin' on the sticky
Got a couple dollars, now this nigga think he Ricky
Pull up to the club, I got a kilo in the car
Black card but a nigga spendin' c-notes at the bar
I'm not a star
I'm not a star
I'm not a star
I'm not a star (ugh)
I'm not a star, somebody lied
I spent a milli on the car, it come alive
Never feed it after dark, gotta treat it like a Gremlin (woo)
It's a multimillion-dollar motherfucker in it (ugh)
And I'm quick to blow a milli in a minute (woo)
I know them people wanna stick me with a sentence (woo)
I'm a player catchin' bitches like I'm TO
Trunk full of work, yeah, this nigga think he Nino (ugh)
Three dice, yeah, grab a nigga for a kilo
Pinky ring a hundred grand but keep that on the d-low
Diddy negotiates, send the paperwork to Theo
My niggas never sing, if I need 'em, I go to Ne-Yo
Fuck a famous bitch, then I treat her just like a ski-oh
Not even worth a shower, just grab me a stick of D-O
Monday for ménages and Tuesday, I get a trio
And the bitch that get a gift on the strength, she was a PO
Pull up to the club, I got a kilo in the car
Black card, but a nigga spendin' c-notes at the bar
I'm not a star
I'm not a star
I'm not a star
I'm not a star