Lyrical Breakdown of Bacc Seat (feat. Ty Dolla $ign) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Bacc Seat (feat. Ty Dolla $ign)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Roddy Ricch feat. Ty Dolla $ign weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Bacc Seat (feat. Ty Dolla $ign)" 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 Roddy Ricch feat. Ty Dolla $ign 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 Roddy Ricch feat. Ty Dolla $ign's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Bacc Seat (feat. Ty Dolla $ign)" not only celebrates Roddy Ricch feat. Ty Dolla $ign'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!
She want Celine, she want the Gucci
I ride with some hundreds on me, I got the blue cheese
Pull up in a Jeep, I put it on Forgi'
I want your body, gimme slop top on the front seat
We gone fuck for an hour then we gon' move to the back seat
When you give me a lap dance, baby, watch for the gat, please
Run it back, run it back, run it back, run it back like a track meet
Bae, relax me, you ain't gotta ask me, huh
G-G huh, I blew her back out
Fuckin' that bitch got her tappin' out
Got me bustin' like the bustin' the racks out
I got her ridin' in the four-door, huh
Draped in designer, no Polo, huh
I was in the Wraith, had the White Out
Bought all the cars off of coco
I gotta drape you up
She got bae, but she naked with us
I got diamonds, gon' drip on the pussy
Keep 'em in the cut
I keep a bad foreign
She know that she comin', of course
Had to throw that fat ass in the Porsche
Got her face down, that ass to the north
Yeah, yeah
She want Celine, she want the Gucci
I ride with some hundreds on me, I got the blue cheese
Pull up in a Jeep, I put it on Forgi'
I want your body, gimme slop top on the front seat
We gon' fuck for an hour, then we gon' move to the back seat
When you give me a lap dance, baby, watch for the gat, please
Run it back, run it back, run it back, run it back like a track meet
Bae, relax me, you ain't gotta ask me, huh (Dolla $ign)
She want Celine ('Line)
I'm the Celine King ('Line king)
Eat the pussy with my grill on
Put it all on my bling bling (bling-bling)
I call her my lil' mama, she want a Balenciaga (ooh-yeah)
Sippin' saké at the 'Bu 'cause we can't go to Benihana's 2020, 720S
It's a race car (car), better yet, it's a jet
Tint my windows black (black), gimme toppy at the light (skrrt)
Is you into that? Baby, pull them panties to the side
We go rounds like some boxing shit (sheesh)
But I give you way more than three-minute increments (three)
I spent a hundred on a ring on my pinky (ring)
She said she love me every time when I'm leavin' (leave)
I'm a fucking sex symbol (sheesh)
She want Celine, she want the Gucci
I ride with some hundreds on me, I got the blue cheese
Pull up in a Jeep, I put it on Forgi'
I want your body, gimme slop top on the front seat
We gone fuck for an hour then we gon' move to the back seat
When you give me a lap dance, baby, watch for the gat, please
Run it back, run it back, run it back, run it back like a track meet
Bae, relax me, you ain't gotta ask me, huh