Lyrical Breakdown of Humble - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Humble" 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 "Humble" 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 "Humble" 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!
Homie, I ain't humble, I deserve this shit
I'm from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped
So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you
White high schools wasn't laughing at the black jokes
Daddy had us contact high off of crack smoke
Had to get it cracking with the seven, 'cause the Mac broke
Wrist fucked up, couldn't make it to practice
Had the money in the couch and the K's by the mattress
Chasing senior bitches down 'cause we was hanging with Pac then
Sidekick thefts, if he pressed him, we packed him
Ski-masking, but niggas wasn't going to Aspen
Mayfair freshman class
But I skipped them all but Ms. Brown, 'cause that was my nigga
Ask me what had mattered more: the school or the set?
She could tell by the truancy I'm true to the shit
Couple months, I was up out of there
Mama kicked me out of the house, but, shit, I didn't care
Hitting licks, it came to a drought
So we was killing kids all for the buck
Fifteen, sitting shotgun, ready to dump, see
Homie, I ain't humble, I deserve this shit
I'm from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped
So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you
Homie, I ain't humble, I deserve this shit
I'm from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped
So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you
I swear I'm busy every time my mama call my phone
No time for stressing, she can leave a message at the tone
I apologize for breaking up your happy home
And looking like my daddy
All them arguments was overblown
Girl, I just want you happy, that's the reason why I write these songs
'Cause I could give a fuck 'bout where I end up when it's said and done
Riding down 7 Street, looking for your second son
Found him on Artesia with a Yankee hat and loaded gun
But you ain't know the difference
Coming home late, seeing Tyson in the kitchen trying to make his own plate
But you love my homies like you love your only son that walk and talk
Think that was the reason you afraid to see me risk it all
But your father told me no reward if it's no risk involved
And your father raised me, made me crazy, don't take shit at all
Know you miss him 'cause I miss him more than I can quite recall
Knew he would be happy as the day my mama had me, see
Homie, I ain't humble, I deserve this shit
I'm from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped
So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you
Homie, I ain't humble, I deserve this shit
I'm from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped
So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you