Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Intro" 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 "Intro" 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 "Intro" 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!
Whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa
From out the streets, became a millionaire
I know niggas started in the trap, and they still there
'Member I was robbin', I bought jewelry and I still wear it
Came a long way with all my niggas, and they still here
My big bro behind bars, for like 200 years
I got that call, I lost my dawg, and I don't know how to feel
Gotta stay on savage time, you know it's war time
I remember I ain't used to leave the house without my .45
I ain't got no time
'Member Pappy had the Mackie at the stop sign
Shit was too, too real
I got my Glock, and laid 'em down, nigga, you knew the deal
That's why I moved to the Hills, and I'm new to it
'Cause I ain't sure why my dawg had to make the news reel
Got promethazine in my eyes, I'm cryin' purple tears
The streets left me cold-hearted, they hurt me still
Uh, and that's why I'm on tour, that's why my house a resort
That's why I got the four by four
I remember when I was low, tryna trap in front of the store
Hop fences on the police, from handcuffs to Rollies
These hoes didn't know a nigga, now she claim she know me
I been counting' up the bag, yeah, yeah
I get the low on the bag, I'm fuckin' up yams
I go get the birdie, birdie, nigga, I need some hens
Thirty before thirty, I been settin' trends
Hop on the Forbes, I hop on the Forbes, I hop on the Forbes
I been countin' millions every time I bored
Spend your whole budget in the designer store
Walk inside my closet, it's designer galore
Bad bitch give me ya-ya in an Aventador
Bad bitch give me ne-e-e-e-e-e-e-eck
Flooded my wrist, it's wet, wet, wet, wet, wet, wet, wet, wet
I'm boutta pack up the whole house, put it inside this suitcase
Put my dick inside her mouth like it's Crest toothpaste
Yeah, she gave me head, like a toupée, huh
Got 20 hoes, they all my roommates, huh
Ten in the bed, ten in the pool bed
I need some bread, been trappin' for two days
If he rockin' with the opps, we gotta wet the block
Got my Glock in the Dior, but I got on Gucci socks
Drip too hard, you can't ride this wave
Put my baby mama and my mom in a Bentayga