Lyrical Breakdown of All Black - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "All Black" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

Lyric Overview: Witness how Big L weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "All Black" 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 Big L 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 Big L's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "All Black" not only celebrates Big L'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!

Yo once again it's the Big L, that kid who got much props

From killin corrupt cops, with motherfuckin buck shots

So don't step to this, cause I got a live crew

You might be kinda big but they make coffins yo' size too

I was taught wise, I'm known to extort guys

No one can match me, tax me or wax me

If you want me to write you some raps G just ask me

Cause on the shelf is where your LP cold stood

Because it was no good, that shit ain't even go wood

I'm not the type to take sluts out, I just fuck they guts out

Get my nuts out, then break the fuck out

Me being a virgin, that's idiotic

Cause if Big L got the AIDS every cutie in the city got it

And I put more holes in his ass than swiss cheese

Big L (repeat 2X)

(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)

Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black

I steal lives like a stone thief, so leave me alone chief

Or catch a buck shot to your domepiece

I must warn, I got it goin on, word is bond

Ducks be gettin thrown off platforms like P.M. Dawn

I'm catchin bodies like a villain's supposed to

And I squeeze triggers, not just on niggaz but hoes too

So don't try to test me, cause I can't stand test-es

Fuck around, I'll introduce you to your ancestors

Step to this and get left with a face full of tears, pal

But man you've been rappin for years now

And ain't made a hit yet, you flop in a split sec

In the shower's the only time you get your dick wet

I roll with scary crews, I come out of wars barely bruised

I'm puttin motherfuckers on the Daily News

I was a gangsta from the git-go

Leavin fags in bodybags with tags on they big toe

Yo ever since I was young, I ripped mics and I killed beats

And I'm known to milk freaks and hit em on silk sheets

No dame can give me a bad name, I got mad fame

I'm quick to put a slug in a fag brain

I be placin snitches inside lakes and ditches

And if I catch AIDS, then I'ma start rapin bitches

I'm all about makin papes kid

I killed my mother with a shovel just like Norman Bates did

My old man in the past, stuck me up without a mask

Then his ass cold dashed with my cash fast

Fifty G's is what the creep stole; so the next day

Knocked on his door and shot his granny through the peephole

That's the type of shit I'm on, word is bond

Got it goin on, from the break of dawns to the early morn'

You know my style I'm wild, comin straight out of Harlem pal

It's Big L, the motherfuckin Problem Child

This goes out to all y'all bitch-ass niggaz

So if your mother ain't ready for a funeral, don't FUCK with me

Cause I know a good way to get your family together

And I ain't talkin bout a reunion motherfucker

Yo, I'm bout to sign out, but before I go

I gotta say peace to the NFL crew, you know who you are

And all y'all niggaz talkin that gun shit

And won't bust a rhyme, stop fakin the funk!

Word, I'm bout to get up out of here

Yo I'm out B, yo peace man

I gotta get this money

So all y'all niggaz on my hitlist get your suits ready

Hahahaha!