Lyrical Breakdown of Crabs In A Bucket - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

Lyric Overview: Witness how Vince Staples weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Crabs In A Bucket" 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 Vince Staples 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 Vince Staples's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Crabs In A Bucket" not only celebrates Vince Staples'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!

Crabs in a bucket

Wanna see you at the bottom, don't you love it?

When they're hatin' so you hit 'em with the encore

Sendin' shots but you at the top floor

Let 'em pop shit, give me some drugs to go pop with

Need white women at the shows unconscious

If not that then topless, earned all this

Get with that or get in the moshpit

Where's your moxie? Ain't you from Poppy?

Young man, you not actin' too cocky

Prolly 'cause I'm feelin' like the world gon' crash

Read a hundred somethin' on the E-class dash

If I'm feelin' funny, guaranteed gon' blast

Cock back, blast, put 'em in a bag

Prolly gon' regret it in the retrospect

Got a lot of problems I ain't let go yet

Spend a lot of money on the CDG

Ain't I lookin' lovely on the TV screen?

Battle with the white man day by day

Feds takin' pictures doin' play by play

They don't ever want to see the black man eat

Nails in the black man's hands and feet

Put him on a cross so we put him on a chain

Lying to me, sayin' he don't look like me

Rollcage on the GT3

How a show on stage like a DVD?

Put me in the MoMA when it's over with

I used to look up to the sky, now I'm over shit

Remember that I still got you

I still got you here

It's rare they'd come across you?

I kept you hidden in my head

Drowning in my own ocean

I forgot to care

And you can drop the anchor, baby

I know what's under there

It never really crossed my mind to think

Maybe you'd avert your glance at me?

Ever really cross your mind

I ain't never had no chance to breathe