Lyrical Breakdown of Cook Dope - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Cook Dope" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how YoungBoy Never Broke Again weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Cook Dope" 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 YoungBoy Never Broke Again 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 YoungBoy Never Broke Again's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Cook Dope" not only celebrates YoungBoy Never Broke Again'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!
(Berge always flexin')
They know I had
I had came from the bottom with this shit (Nah, for real though)
I came from the bottom, nigga (Bitch, cook)
You already know though
They blow shit up for nothin'
It ain't nothin' to get that money
Nah, I'm just a reason to get money, motherfucker
Ooh
Bitch, cook dope, huh, they ain't see me
Jumpin' out that AMG with K and 3
Hold up, told her, "Bitch, cook dope, bitch, whip thirty-six for me"
"Whole damn brick, do a split for me"
I'm gon' make the ho cook dope, ho, I'm totin' on extensions
Got my neck and wrist on frozen, young nigga (Haha, come on)
Just one show, they pay me damn near one million
When I walk in, I'ma have my gun with me
I buy that ho Michael Kors, Fendi purse, Michael Jordans
They don't like to see me stuntin', I pull up and I act retarded
I got all these diamonds on me, big money, keep it comin'
Don't know how I got all this money
Fuck nigga, I ain't goin' broke for nothing
Had foreigns since I was sixteen and I'll put them gunners on you
And I always tell my ho
If she don't shine, I won't pop out for nothin'
Always tell my brother hundred thousand, I'ma keep him gunnin'
Bitch-ass nigga, come try somethin'
I'ma fire on you in this Saint Laurent
Hit the gas, my Urus run, bitch, my wife just wait her turn
Make it sticky, we do that lightly, cryin' now, shit, get it done
Wake up, Birkin bag runnin', I came up straight out the slums
I told Shyne, "Don't put shit on her if it ain't a one-of-one"
Rich as fuck, I'm grandma baby, thought papa hated his grandson
I know how to take, break, and make it shake
And do it right like dynamite
Will it pop or will it get my pockets right?
I was down and on my dick, I prayed on it like every night
Tryna get it right
Bitch, cook dope, huh, they ain't see me
Jumpin' out that AMG with K and 3
Hold up, told her, "Bitch, cook dope, bitch, whip thirty-six for me"
"Whole damn brick, do a split for me"
I'm gon' make the ho cook dope, ho, I'm totin' on extensions
Got my neck and wrist on frozen, young nigga (Haha, come on)
Just one show, they pay me damn near one million
When I walk in, I'ma have my gun with me
Hold up, I pull up, leanin', swervin' on these Forgiatos
Got your bitch with me, tryna fit in, hit my Styrofoam
Skrrt, slow it down, now the bitch ain't takin it slow
Got the bitch on dope, she ain't complainin' no more
Got the bitch on froze, that's my ho, ho
Make the bitch feel good and treat the ho so cold
Take the bitch from out the hood and change her life on the road
I don't give no fuck 'bout what she doin'
Long as I'm puttin' this shit on
Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, I told the bitch, "Cook dope"
Won't be long 'fore Meechy Baby probably walk through the door
(Put your mask on, don't take it off)
I told the bitch, "Cook dope"
And I knew not to let that money hit my bank account at all
Since I was small
Bitch, cook dope, huh, they ain't see me
Jumpin' out that AMG with K and 3
Hold up, told her, "Bitch, cook dope, bitch, whip thirty-six for me"
"Whole damn brick, do a split for me"
I'm gon' make the ho cook dope, ho, I'm totin' on extensions
Got my neck and wrist on frozen, young nigga (Haha, come on)
Just one show, they pay me damn near one million
When I walk in, I'ma have my gun with me
Put my gun on all they ass