BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
clock in
- nodding to the knock of a bootleg somebody prolly dropped off from Gotham
- brought it in a tall black bottle with the nozzle popped off, they told me it’s hot and not to swallow fast
- or i’ll cough like the last kid who rocked up in docs and got knocked for talkin too loud in the wrong part of the walk up
- caught up in thoughts, a lot of what i jot got plotted in boxes, spot check concepts and clock in
- i’m honest, stopped short of options, polished it, dropped it, awfully solid, plotted the launch like a rocket
- got stuck in the potholes, bars and the promise i offered, trauma i boxed with logged in a journal from Target
- i’m not in the pocket, i’m walkin with progress, talkin through loss, authored with a conscience
- they said it’s competitive, bet, i’ve been better since sentences, measured it, heavy like Ennis in tennis
- relentless with pen in my grip and the leverage to sever a critic who slipped with a petty ass message
- vetted in sets with the deadliest guest list, i’m never indebted, no bitch shit or edits
- just minutes and effort and metrics you couldn’t invent if you edited credits
- i let it reset in the mental, centered, direct as a header in seconds, deflecting their mentions
- and stepping on records they pressed just to test me, they said it and meant it, i let em
- morning’s distorting the corners, i’m orbiting, floating through borders
- stems to disorder, balance like tapes in a patrol crate with a worn out recorder
- meditate sideways, pen in my left, breath in a five way delay from the neck down, nested like a cassette now
- blackout, basements that packed out with rap fiends, sample it and wrap it in wax sheets
- been bootin on loop with a rootkit that nukes your whole route through the group chat, you knew that
- move back, I’m proof that the new class grew past your flu raps
- i’m two tabs deep, cracked scuba mask full of junk stats
- fun fact, i’m dumpin on tracks like a dumpstat bard with a bug out bag
- rapping while I backhand bad hooks, lab rats gaspin, i’m past them, ran laps while y’all crash like Dashlane
- mad cause your fanbase vanished in a flashbang, grab space in a flat gray van with a handshake cam
- and a plan to go ravage your fanpage, i’m half crazed, sat down, mapped out ten bad rounds
- marked up in sharpie, i’m hardly alarmed by the barking, an arsonist marchin through tarjay with parchment
- and markers for targeting, dodging like narcos in car chases, order my thoughts like a waitress
- who knows that the lobster was brought in and cost them mortgage, i’m off in the orbit
- like portis in Portland with 14 reporters recording the chorus, of course i was bored of forbes lists
- i’m more into foreign shit, court dates, award shows in four states, been war taped, boxed in like cornflakes
- plays in the bay from a DJ, i rotate, sharp with the long blade like a tall james
- harden, been strong with the song names since they played back in dog days
What is a Blueprint?
A blueprint is like a report card for your lyrics. It contains a lyrical breakdown and analysis of all the words, syllables, and rhymes in your song.
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