Lyrical Breakdown of Intro - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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 Roddy Ricch 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 Roddy Ricch 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's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Intro" not only celebrates Roddy Ricch'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