Lyrical Breakdown of Gone - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Gone" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Wiz Khalifa weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Gone" 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 Wiz Khalifa 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 Wiz Khalifa's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Gone" not only celebrates Wiz Khalifa'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!
Yeah, it's young, ya know?
Crack that shit down
Roll that shit up, light that shit, pass it
Nah, fuck that, face this one, yeah
This for all my true weed smokers
Yeah, nigga ask me what's wrong with me?
I said, I'm gone off that pound of dank
(That sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky)
Purple, purple in my pocket and my jeans sag low
I said, I'm gone off that pound of dank
(That sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky)
Purple, purple in my pocket and my jeans sag low
I said, I'm gone off that pound of dank
Ridin' in my ride, so blowed, don't how to think
But I'm stayin' high
I'ma roll me a nice, long Swisher, filled with light green
Oh, I think they like me, let me get a light, B
(And then I'm gone)
Off that Cali bud, what the fuck you chokin' on?
Mr. Bud by the Zone, O's like Omarion
And we ain't tuckin' nothin' cousin, what's the hold up?
Keep 'em comin' back to back to back, we roll up
('Til it's all gone)
Get a pound, break it down
I ain't stingy, it's enough to go around
And I'm blazin' right now, niggas tellin' me to hold on
Crank it, twist it, light it, take a pull and hold on
(And then, I'm gone)
I gotta have it, gotta have it, that's unheard about
Rollin' up another blunt, before I put the first one out
My eyes low, have me chiefin' 'til I choke
Niggas askin' me what's wrong
Blew some smoke up out my nose and said I'm gone
I said, I'm gone off that pound of dank
(That sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky)
Purple, purple in my pocket and my jeans sag low
I said, I'm gone off that pound of dank
(That sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky)
Purple, purple in my pocket and my jeans sag low
I said, I'm gone off that brownish drank
Niggas know how I roll, it look like my eyes closed
Hennessey and Hydro, rhyme slow
Nigga, I'm on a different type of a vibe
This a different type of weed
And I'm a different type a high
(My nigga, I'm gone)
To a place that you probably never been in life
Smokin' Purple Kryptonite
Make sure you curl that Swisher right
'Cause I ain't tryna have this home grown runnin'
Homie thinkin' he gon' smoke for free
I duck 'em, roll somethin'
(Then, I'm gone)
In my ride, doin' 80 in a 45 Zone, half a zone
Got me blown, I get more than high
Fresh off of the plane
Head start into my hotel
Weed man in every city, yeah, I smoke well
(Even when I'm gone)
I ain't the only one, all my niggas puff pounds
Swingin' blunts 'round, sun up 'till sun down
My eyes low and my words are getting slow
Niggas askin' me what's wrong
I blew some smoke up out my nose and said, I'm gone
I said, I'm gone off that pound of dank
(That sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky)
Purple, purple in my pocket and my jeans sag low
I said, I'm gone off that pound of dank
(That sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky, that sticky, that icky)
Purple, purple in my pocket and my jeans sag low