Lyrical Breakdown of Slow Ride - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Slow Ride" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Beastie Boys weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Slow Ride" 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 Beastie Boys 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 Beastie Boys's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Slow Ride" not only celebrates Beastie Boys'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!
They got a committee to get me off the block
'Cause I say my rhymes loud and I say 'em nonstop
Because being bad news is what we're all about
We went to White Castle and we got thrown out
I got my boy Mike D, I got the King Ad-Rock
I got the jammy with the ammo inside my sock
I shot homeboy, but the bullet was a dud
So I reached in the Miller cooler, grabbed a cool Bud
Slow ridin', gun hidin', on the go
I'm fly like an eagle, and I drink Old Crow
I'm the king of the classroom, coolin' in the back
My teacher had beef, so I gave her a smack
She chased me out of class, she was strapped with a ruler
Went to the bathroom, rolled myself a wooler
With bottle in hand, at the microphone stand
Ay, yo, homeboy, what you drinkin', man?
I got money, I got juice
I got to the party and I got loose
I got rhythms, I got rhymes
I got the girlies with the def behinds
I got ill, I got busted
I got dust and I got dusted
I got gold, I got funky
I got the new dance they call the Brass Monkey
Because I'm hard hittin', always bitten, cool as hell
I got the trees on my mirror so my car won't smell
Sittin' around the house, gettin' high, watchin' tube
I'm eating Colonel's chicken, drinkin' Heineken brew
And I'm a gangster, I'm a prankster, I'm the King of the Ave
And I'm hated, confrontated for the juice that I have
All the fine ladies are making a fuss
But I can't pay attention 'cause I'm on that dust