BUILDING BLUEPRINT

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Lyrical Analysis of...

Oldie - Earl Sweatshirt

  1. Look, for contrast, here's a pair of lips
  2. Swallowin' sarapin and settin' fire to sheriff's whips
  3. (Whoops, whoops!) Fuckin' All American terrorist
  4. Crushin' rapper larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick
  5. And me? I just spent a year Ferrisin'
  6. And lost a little sanity to show you what hysterics is
  7. Spit 'til the lips meet the bottom of a barrel, so that sterile piss
  8. Flow remind these niggas where embarrassed is
  9. Narrow, tight line, might impair him since
  10. I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type
  11. Feral, fuckin' ill apparel wearin' pack of parasites
  12. Threw his own youth off the roof after paradise
  13. La di da di, back in here to fuck the party up
  14. Raidin' fridges, tippin' over vases with a tommy gun
  15. Never dollars, poppa make it rain hockey pucks
  16. And sixty day chips from fuckin' awesome anonymous
  17. Call him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe
  18. Off the wall loafers, Four Loko and a cobra clutch
  19. Vocals bold and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum
  20. And let me hit and beat it with a stick until the hole is numb
  21. The culprit of the potent punch
  22. Scoldin' hot as dunkin' scrotum in a Folgers cup
  23. Or Nevada, drivin' drunk inside a stolen truck
  24. And shittin' like his colon bust
  25. Belly full of chicken and a fifth of old petroleum
  26. Supernova, I'm rollin' over the novices
  27. And roamin' through the forest and spittin' cold as his porridge is
  28. Stay gold 'til the case closed and the story end
  29. Post mortem porkin' this rap shit and record it
  30. To escort it to the morgue again, lord of lips
  31. Bored of this, forklift the tippy top, best under 40 list
  32. Stormin' the gate, ensurin' the bass
  33. Scorchin', leave these motherfuckers sore in torso and face
  34. Get at me, we savages, half a pack of Apache
  35. Indian pack of niggas who don't give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
  36. As a matter of fact, your swagger is tacky
  37. So see me, you can't, like Crunchy Black catchin' a taxi
  38. Uh, back like lateral passin'
  39. With that motherfuckin' gladiator manner of rappin'
  40. As an addict I let Percocet and Xannies relax me
  41. Fall back if your paddies is Maxi, please
LYRICAL GRADE

RHYME DENSITY

0

RHYME LENGTH

1 syllable
2 syllables
3 syllables
4 syllables
5+ syllables
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