Lyrical Breakdown of Hot (Remix) [feat. Gunna and Travis Scott] - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Hot (Remix) [feat. Gunna and Travis Scott]" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Young Thug weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Hot (Remix) [feat. Gunna and Travis Scott]" 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 Young Thug 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 Young Thug's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Hot (Remix) [feat. Gunna and Travis Scott]" not only celebrates Young Thug'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!

Wheezy outta here Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot Everything litty, I love when it's hot Turned up the city, I broke off the notch Got some more millis, I keep me a knot I created history and made me a lot He tried to diss me and ended on Fox We call 'em chopsticks 'cause they gonna chop Took her out of Follies 'cause her pussy pop I run it like Nike, we got it on lock Cartier eye I'm the bossman in a suit with no tie I can't be sober, I gotta stay high Pour me some syrup in a Canada Dry Ridin' in the spaceship like Bonnie and Clyde Don't worry, baby, I keep me some fire Shenenehs and Birkins, she cannot decide The latest Mercedes her go-to surprise Don't sleep on miss lady, her pussy a prize Dick in her back while I'm grippin' her sides Bigger Maybach, this ain't regular size We really fly, we like pelican glide Bitch, you ain't slick, I can tell the disguise Upgraded my wrist, put baguettes in that Sky She sing, I might sign her and change her whole life I told her to gargle and work on her highs Everything litty, I love when it's hot Turned up the city, I broke off the notch Got some more millis, I keep me a knot I created history and made me a lot He tried to diss me and ended on Fox We call 'em chopsticks 'cause they gonna chop Took her out of Follies 'cause her pussy pop I run it like Nike, we got it on lock Cash, money, checks, cash Addy, Birkin, brand new extendos I just wanna fuck the bitch by myself I just passed her to the dawg like my Sprite I took the Bentley coupe back, then I hopped in a Cayenne (skrrt) I put the bitch in the front of the Bentley, in front of the driver (skrrt) Ayy, man, this synthetic weed, you can't smoke in the Rolls-Royce, woah, woah (yeah, yeah) I'm still double cupped up, I'm drinkin', I shoot off your tires, huh (doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo) I'm in the coupe by myself I had to kick a door when I was five Keep the old ones on the shelf Whole 16 round in the fire I'm sick and tired of these young niggas act like they firin', they tellin' these lies Actin' like they the ones created this and they get all the drip from my guys Yeah, Cartier eyes Cartier coat, Cartiers the watch Cartier love, Cartier the thot Cartier specs, buffalo on the side Princess cut diamonds, they Cartier, yeah Cartier bag for the Cartier thot Sky Wrangler coupe with two hundred the dash Cartier jeans, ain't no way I can sag Ain't no way I'ma ever gon' go out bad I can't go out, no way I'ma go out I just grip on her ass and I show out I sit like a champ and I wait on a hold-out I just whip up a new Chanel Patek I whip with the wrist and I don't break the door out Turn the whole top floor to a whorehouse Hundred racks in ones, dude brought the flood out (oh) Cash, money, checks, cash (ooh, ah) Addy, Birkin, brand new extendos (ooh) I just wanna fuck the bitch by myself (ah) I just passed her to the dawg like my Sprite (ooh, it's lit) Hot like the 504 Boyz how I move through the lobby (Hot) Since '012, La Flame been hot just to show you the timeframe (La Flame) Hundred mil' down on my desk, but I'm still up deciding (straight up) Match the M's in my account to the truck in my driveway (skrrt, skrrt) I'm in that four-door by myself Know it's a hundred more niggas outside Know they gon' ride 'til the death (ooh) Had some good years, ain't no way I get tired I gotta do what I feel Every day Super Bowl, fuck it, oh well I put a lot on myself In the field, Richard Mille on like Odell (let's go) She slid her hand down my pants just to grab the torpedo (doo-doo-doo) I had to go back and link with my slimes like I'm thirteen and zero (it's lit) I told her, "Baby, this not the remix, this a part of the sequel" (part of the seq') No, we not livin' the same, we not makin' the same, we not equal (no), yeah, yeah, yeah Look mom I can fly Had some troubles, put that shit in the sky Brought the angels, know the devil would try It's so hot, you thought Paris Hilton done said it (yeah, yeah) When we come out, we can't help but leave damage (yeah, yeah, yeah) Afterparty, Astroworld out the planet (yeah, yeah) Laid the map out, but they didn't understand it When I'm on, know that I fuck on a Grammy, yeah Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot, damn Hot, hot, hot, hot