Lyrical Breakdown of Hold My Cup (feat. Shad Da God) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Hold My Cup (feat. Shad Da God)" 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 "Hold My Cup (feat. Shad Da God)" 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 "Hold My Cup (feat. Shad Da God)" 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!
Hold my cup, then let me dab
Hold my cup, let me count my racks
Hold my cup, let me get my strap
Hold my cup, gimme my cup back (Who that?)
Hold my cup, gimme my cup back (Who that?)
Scroll my blunt, this an Iraq pack
All these Maison, come from Saks
We going back and forth like that
We toting sticks for the whole team
I done got four rings, with the one six rings
And we gon' buy watches for the whole team
Chains for the whole team and some earrings
And he like, "Woah, don't do no black on black"
But we got 30s on a ho
And this rap shit like this street shit, we got pistols at the show
Bad bitches link up
Come get linked up, come get doped up
Hold up, I'm feeling generous today
After we fuck, you can post up
I put the Range with the Rover
Fuck 'bout none of that shit, I need some ice and some soda
I can use my old cup
Pass my phone, I'm 'bout to call some cute bitches over
I tried to motherfucking told you
Nigga don't even know 'bout these coronas
Bitch, I'm motherfucking juggin'
What you know 'bout money? Take two hands to hold it
And they sleeping on the God
What the fuck is it gon' take? 'Cause I don't got no Folgers
And what happened to them Rollies?
Red rum and stick, no limit motherfucking soldiers
Two hundred for the rag, it's a Hermès
I don't even think that I told you
Just 'cause these bitches be nosey
I done got cozy with a snub nose
Bitch play with them balls like the pros
I be whipping dirty, this that rose
All my niggas shooting, not no goals
Pour my cup, you better let it go
Hold my cup, then let me dab
Hold my cup, let me count my racks
Hold my cup, let me get my strap
Hold my cup, gimme my cup back (Who that?)
Hold my cup, gimme my cup back (Who that?)
Scroll my blunt, this an Iraq pack
All these Maison, come from Saks
We going back and forth like that
We toting sticks for the whole team
I done got four rings, with the one six rings
And we gon' buy watches for the whole team
Chains for the whole team and some earrings
And he like, "Woah, don't do no black on black"
But we got 30s on a ho
And this rap shit like this street shit, we got pistols at the show
Pussy bald head, not afro
Copping, yeah, she copping, but she not the 4s
I'm not from Canada, shoutout my woe
Call this JCPenney like a motherfucking toe
Read me a book, pull up with dogs and they shook
I just want to cook, we chill, we don't get no book
Slime all the crooks, we don't give no fuck 'bout no looks
We don't give no fuck 'bout the news
We pull up, knock you out your shoes, ugh
Fill the spot up whenever I want
Spent a hundred bands on her lil' donk
Hold up, another twenty bands on her lil' donk
A hundred racks in my hoodie pockets, another trunk
Fuck that bitch so long, she need to have more pumps
She like, "Baby boy, you got to leave that molly alone"
And I promise I'ma do it, I even put it on my son
And it's a shame he only two and he know that I'm slime, bitch
Hold my cup, then let me dab
Hold my cup, let me count my racks
Hold my cup, let me get my strap
Hold my cup, gimme my cup back (Who that?)
Hold my cup, gimme my cup back (Who that?)
Scroll my blunt, this an Iraq pack
All these Maison, come from Saks
We going back and forth like that
We toting sticks for the whole team
I done got four rings, with the one six rings
And we gon' buy watches for the whole team
Chains for the whole team and some earrings
And he like, "Woah, don't do no black on black"
But we got 30s on a ho
And this rap shit like this street shit, we got pistols at the show