Lyrical Breakdown of Loca - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Loca" 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 "Loca" 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 "Loca" 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!

Baby, baby, baby, baby

Know your sick of all the same old thangs

Same club wit' the same champagne

Backwoods, tryin' to burn your brain

Wit' a broke-ass nigga in the CarMax Range

You ain't nothin' but a vibrant thang

Ass too thick for your 5' 10" frame

Want to spend all night in your nine lives?

Get to purrin' when that liquor get to burnin'

Get it crackin', why you actin' like a virgin?

Where it come from, mama or the surgeon?

You paid for it, did you pray for it? Get twerkin'

And a nigga gotta sit and wait for it, is it worth it?

Why I ask when I already know?

Don't mind me, mind already gone

Nigga better not keep callin' ya phone

Have my dogs in the yard at his home

Baby, baby, baby, baby

You know you drive me crazy

Girl, you lookin' like somethin' out of King

Magazine, fifteen in the magazine

Hope a nigga don't run up tweakin'

I'm tryna to have a good time this evening

91 Freeway, eastbound, speedin'

Late night but the face right, I need it

Mando, I'm the man though, you see it

Niggas wanna kill me, so I gotta keep it

I ain't really into clubs, into nightlife

Only kick it wit' the thugs, I ain't never did a drug

Weed blowin' what I does, need your mind right

They won't ever catch a nigga at the stoplight

What your life like?

Would you ride for a nigga, die for a nigga?

Court room lie for a nigga?

Switch up to set up a snitch on a nigga?

Maybe, still gon' drive me crazy

Baby, baby, baby, baby

You know you drive me crazy

Siempre quiere estar en la calle gusta con amigos como pendejo nunca quieres estar en la casa

Tienes cosas hacer en la casa también

Siempre quiere estar con mío en nunca quiere estar conmigo what the fuck

Yo no sé que vas hacer, but you need to get your shit together

Because a mi no me vas a tratar como ninguna otra pendeja estupido