Lyrical Breakdown of Keep It Rollin - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Keep It Rollin" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how A Tribe Called Quest weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Keep It Rollin" 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 A Tribe Called Quest 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 A Tribe Called Quest's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Keep It Rollin" not only celebrates A Tribe Called Quest'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!
Ayo, swing-swing-swing to chop-chop-chop
Yo, that’s the sound when MCs get mopped
Don’t come around town without the hip in your hop
‘Cause when the shit hits the fan, that ass’ll get dropped
MCs wanna attack me, but them punks can’t cope
I’ll have you left without a job like Isaac from The Love Boat
So money, watch your mouth, or I’ma have to bust ya
Battlin’ MCs, from JFK to Russia
Back down to London, Sweden, and Brazil
Do a US tour for three months, and then I chill
Styles be phat like Jackie Gleason, the rest be Art Carney
People love the Dawg like the kids love Barney
I love you, you love me
The shorty Phife Dawg is your favorite MC
So move back yourself, dread, you know the element
The Tribe is good for your health like a can of Nutrament
MCs don’t have no wins, MCs don’t have no bitches
I flip shit crazier than a busload of Jerry’s Kids
Your crew don’t want it, and your crew don’t want it
But if you feel you can swing it, then, money, please bring it
(What’s up? What’s up?) Large Professor in the house
(What’s up? What’s up?) You know how we do
(What’s up? What’s up?) I skate on your crew
(What’s up? What’s up?) Like Mario Lemieux
(What’s up? What’s up?) Peace to Ike Love
(What’s up? What’s up?) And the rest of the crew
I’ll meet you guys in front the cleaners
Bring the blunts and the brew, so
What’s up, kids?
The Ab’ is speakin’ from the moon
Thanks for your support, ayo, I’ll be home soon
But the only thing I ask when I return from my task
Is a whole bunch of beats and a flask full of ass
My fist stands firm because I’m black and solid
I open up your pores like a plate full of collards
Come on, take it easy, would ya?
Easy, easy
I’m up in the gulley, that’s when I am her buddy
She told me pull her hair, I did, it drove her nutty
Filled up the hole like spackle or I mean putty
When we over joints like this, we never cruddy
Extra P hooked the beat, and kids, it feels lovely
Check it out, ‘cause my conception is immaculate
A bachelor lookin’ for a bachelorette
Back to you MCs, this is what you’re gonna get
A first-degree burn from my man Ken’s cigarette
I hope you like Malboro
Paul, you know we thorough like Denver
The beat feels like a never-ender
But all things good must, so I won’t sweat it
Drop the seeds for the youthful crew, I hope you get it
As I stand, grip this mic inside my hand
Boy, I’ll smack you up like I was your old gran’
So respect yourself, son, and come and give me love
Once again, the Ab’ is who you think of
So chill with the beef, money, we gotta dead it
It’s Extra P, and yo, Tip, I’m ‘bout to set it
On the country once again, here to win
I’m Uptown chillin’, takin’ in this Grandmaster Vic blend
From the Projects, the PJs
Fuck them two DJs
Self mission, I had her in the ill position
Sayin’, “Large you’s a soul brother that I‘d like to F with for the rest of my life.”
Yeah, yeah, now check the method
As I proceed with what you need like Akinyele
A whip looks complete when the tires say Pirelli
Funk monkey, one rapper fell off, now he’s a junkie
There’s eight million stories in the city, it’s a pity
Don’t fuck with the skins if she’s tryin’ to act shitty
Big shout to the Guru, Primo, and Zulu Zulu Nation
Was on a vacation in the ghetto
Yo, Ras, slow your roll, I’m ‘bout to bag this here schmeydl
Rapper Nas on top, it seems we gonna rock it
Queens represent, buy the album when I drop it— drop it