Lyrical Breakdown of Slap - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Busta Rhymes weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Slap" 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 Busta Rhymes 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 Busta Rhymes's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Slap" not only celebrates Busta Rhymes'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!

I go on and on and on and Don't approach me, I back the ratchet That's a warnin' Hahaha Y'all gon' appreciate the slap today Taheem Allah, King Asiatic Allah AKA Bust' Rhymes, Big Daddy Kane in the motherfucker Yeah, we in the motherfucker this evenin' Rest in peace Biz Mark' Rest in peace to all of our fallen soldiers Rest in peace to PnB Rock, look Look Somebody polish my crown and put it back on my motherfuckin' Yo, yo We on course now, back with the force Respect the boss, shots let off Shit leak out your head like pasta sauce Who's to blame? (Uh) Burnin' this bitch and bangin' flame Yeah, we back (Conglomerate, bitch) You know the name (Ayo) You ridin' on empty, tou should refuel at Amoco Most you niggas is finished Now pop yourself like Plaxico Pass the dough Cook you and serve you like a casserole And lay you out on the street And display you like a fashion show Sorry, but I have to go, my spit is full of rockets And I'm done with laying niggas in Quadrilateral boxes Compatible with toxins The texture in my lecture will reflect the image Of niggas gettin' chopped with a thousand oxes The shit that I concoct is Mixed like type two diabetes mixed with High cholesterol, artery blockage (Haha) You better call the cops, kid (Huh) Or quickly turn into one of them niggas abroad As a headless unsolvable hostage Niggas throw the coke around Like them niggas in mosh pits A lot of niggas think they got it But niggas just pop shit We back to giving niggas bangers Controllin' the block, it's The fact that I'm holdin' a rock While I'm foldin' a knot, bitch Yeah, I see these niggas still lyin' on they raps And buyin' they own plaques (Huh?) I'm so relaxed, I don't reply if you don't act Killer been chillin but somebody dying if bro snap He dyin' to go, Grrat That's when y'all niggas gon' be dyin' to go rat In and out of jail so we don't mind if we go back (Huh?) Got the rap business down to the science Don't know cap (Woo) Hall of fame and we're just analyzin' my old stats (Ah) Glidin' on those tracks (Ah) My catalog in it's entirety all slap And my impact feels like that of a ball bat Swing from Aaron Judge Bling canary studs (Talk to 'em) Yeah, Mercedes concept Where you get that from? You talkin' online and I ain't worried 'bout that bum (Come on, man) I was bullshittin' Then I three-peat back to back, uh Machine brought that feel back How they ain't gon' jack son? (Woo) 'Bout to go on my Kobe and Shaq run (Ah) Punch a nigga in the chest He'll get a collapsed lung (Hahaha) Doat street, May block You know where I'm at, uh (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) One Made a solemn oath to never stop gettin' Decades later, steady 'bout business Spendin' wild since I ain't have a pot to piss in Tried to give 'em game But they steady not listenin' Some of y'all got that Fetty Wap vision My third eye improved my effin' cognition Move like the feds and hit every spot different When me and Buss' hit the block, listen Let me try to spit it to you logically You got Kevin's heart but no state property I can land wherever in this here monopoly Park Place, Boardwalk Them Greens, I got the three Stop playin', y'all, I got a thirst to meet But I left a spot at the table It's common courtesy The urgency for currency Certainly workin' me, purposely Even inadvertently, turnin' me into Hercules No laggin' and that's the deft of it If y'all don't know the roots to this Then let me Questlove it Instead of y'all livin' on a set budget Make sure that bag secure, next subject I ain't at the ATM to check luggage My bags carry on (It'll come to you later) 'Cause I'm a real earner, boy And you don't wanna turn the boy into a Nat Turner, boy You 'bout to be a learner, boy Enjoy yourself until I pop smoke and burn a boy End of story, no one goes after me I anchor tracks so you hear last from me Don't ask me to pass the mic, that's blasphemy Fuck I look like to y'all, DJ Cassidy? A-Big Daddy, haha, my man, my mellow Let's count this bread Because you been the type of fellows Hahaha