Lyrical Breakdown of the ends - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "the ends" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Travis Scott weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "the ends" 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 Travis Scott 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 Travis Scott's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "the ends" not only celebrates Travis Scott'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!

2AM howlin' outside Lookin' but I cannot find Don't you fall asleep this time I been on a long way drive Only you can stand my mind Only you can fix inside So if I make it out tonight Let's make it a badass time Okay, I got it, copy 20/20, but I can't see nobody One eye open, Illuminati This might be the verse that make 'em drop me Ain't makin' friends, we just makin' hobbies No that wasn't my girl, that was just a hobby Call up 50, tell 'em load up the lobby Elevator up, no need to find me Yeah, yeah X-ray vision, see through you niggas Newspaper stand, we press the issue We ain't sendin' shots, we launchin' missiles Right up at your hood and load Checkin' Third Ward, I'm goin' mental Fuckin' up my room, I've been rackin' up incidentals Cookin' on a tune, I been cheffin' up instrumentals Nothin' else to do when you're ridin' in the When you ridin' in the, in the back of the back seat Driver run the miles up like I'm runnin' a track meet Gotta watch my back now, cause these niggas at me All black in a Benz when I pull up on you They don't want to see me in the ends, in the ends Let me catch you creeping here past 10, in the ends From the tribe called check-a-hoe like Indian Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah Today I'mma take a cheque and cancel left I guess it's all survival but please be careful I gave up on the Bible long time ago I hope it ain't give up on me, I don't know I came up in the town, they were murderin' kids And dumped them in the creek up from where I live Bodies, bodies, bodies sprinkled around We runnin' through the sprinkler lookin' around Killer would show up with boxes of pizza And said he had a label recruitin' people Put that on my grandma and everythin' My homie said he told 'em his name was Wayne It could've been me or could've been you too What a memory in me, needing to lose What's gon' patch up my intertube So I could pop a wheelie and walk it too Oh yeah, La Flame with the nappy fro now In the ends, I'mma kick your door down Oh yeah, we keep wildin' out the Mo' now Oh yeah, keep that 300 zero when I pull up on ya