Lyrical Breakdown of Sup Mate (feat. Future) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Sup Mate (feat. Future)" 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 "Sup Mate (feat. Future)" 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 "Sup Mate (feat. Future)" 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!

I'll put that on, hold up, wait, life's great (yeah, yeah) Hold up, wait, ice skate (yeah, yeah) Hold up, wait, crime pay (ueah, yeah) Hold up, wait, slatt, slatt (ATL Jacob, yeah, yeah) Twenty cars, matte black (yeah, yeah) Surfin' at the Ritz Carlton (yeah, yeah) Tinted pink hoes (poof, poof, yeah, yeah) Oxycontin what I piss (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) Flip it to the dog like a dish (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) Accept the loss before I quit (yeah, yeah) She slept at the house, I bought her Ruth Chris (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) What's up, mate? Got cake, mate (yeah, yeah) Got cheese, mate, got bread, mate (woo) Got cups, mate, no fucks, mate (woo, mate) Give no fucks, mate (woo, fucks, mate) I'm up, mate (woo, outta shape, yeah, yeah) It's up, mate, I buck, mate (yeah, yeah) I bleed, mate, he bled, mate (woo, yeah, yeah) Got cups, mate, no fucks, mate, let's fuck, mate (woo) Fucked my classmate, fuck, shit, let's splash, mate (or suck that shit, let's splash, hey) Smokin' on loud, we don't be fuckin' around with y'all One time mission, yeah yeah We prepare first and then Columbine Trench coat, under a nigga's sleeve Wipe his nose, wipe his nose (pussy ass nigga) Wipe his nose, wipe his nose (slatt, wipe your nose) Wipe his nose (wipe your nose, Slatt) Wipe his nose (slatt, wipe his nose) Wipe his nose, wipe his nose (wipe his nose, yeah, yeah) Doubled the cups and then doubled It up and I doubled it up (yeah, yeah) Jump in the Bentley I jump in the truck and I trucker the truck (woo, yeah, yeah) Chuggin' it down, I'm smokin' a pound, I'm fuckin' around (yeah, yeah) Smokin' on loud, we don't be fuckin' around with y'all What's up, mate? Got the blicky, featherweight (woo, woo) Got the cash, I bake the cake, aye, what's brackin', mate? (woo, woo) I just snipe her, mate, chain on hydrate, mate (woo, woo) Get no sleep, mate, I'm geeked (woo) Mate, pushin' weight, outta shape (yeah, yeah) Red wings, red bottoms, I'm a fuckin' devil (yeah, yeah) 20's tennis chains on, not no Ric Flair medal (woo, yeah, yeah) I done gotta run it back, you heard what Gunna tell 'em (yeah, yeah) Put my diamonds in a bowl, that look like Fruity Pebbles Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Bitch wanna hit her a lick, yeah (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) Bitch wanna suck on the dick, yeah Bitch wanna get her a brick, yeah (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,) Bitch wanna fuck on a rich nigga (yeah) Bitch wanna fuck on the clique (yeah, yeah) Euros on euros, I'm gettin' it (uh) Step on the floor, now I'm lit (woo) Wipe his nose, wipe her nose (woo) Kick her door, kick the road (woo) Put the pole in his ho, bend her over (woo, woo, woo) Then you buy that bitch a brand new Range Rover (woo, woo, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) I'm so high, all I can say is woo, woo, woo I can't talk, I barely could say woo, woo, woo Count a M and count another one, ooh, ooh (ooh) Fuck that shit, I enter the lotto, woo, woo (fuck it, yeah, yeah) Count a half and another (woo, woo, yeah, yeah) I can never be a facade, relative (woo, woo, yeah, yeah) Up to the sky with my mom, brothers (woo, woo, yeah, yeah) They let it hit from the side They were all cutters (woo, woo, fuck it, yeah, yeah) Oh, okay, fuck her good, make her try voodoo Okay, my plug put me on, I call him Lou Lou Hood nigga, paid in full, I'm a black Jew What's poppin', lady? I come from the trenches, we pray for a brick What's poppin', lady? Bitches love a nigga's accent (woo, woo) Pain pills, codeine, hydro, acid (woo, woo) I hang with some slimes, pullin' kick doors (woo, woo) Outchea, outchea, quit your reachin', Gucci socky on my feet Sloppy toppy, keep it neat One, two, three, I got freaks Ooh, four girls on fleek Ooh, bad and saditty Ooh, ass and her titties Ooh, that ting litty And my Spanish ting, she bad like J. Lo (ooh, ooh) I crushed up an X pill in her asshole (ooh, ooh) Fifty round clip, got my Draco (ooh, ooh) I should, I should teach drug classes (ooh, ooh) I stay on my grind, Margiela ten toes (ooh, ooh) Money on my mind, I'm a nympho (ooh, ooh) Ass and her titties, ooh That ting litty, ooh Ass and her titties, ooh That ting litty, ooh Ass and her titties, ooh That ting litty, ooh