Lyrical Breakdown of Afro Connections at a Hi 5 (In the Eyes of the Hoodlum) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Afro Connections at a Hi 5 (In the Eyes of the Hoodlum)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how De La Soul weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Afro Connections at a Hi 5 (In the Eyes of the Hoodlum)" 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 De La Soul 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 De La Soul's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Afro Connections at a Hi 5 (In the Eyes of the Hoodlum)" not only celebrates De La Soul'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!

This is dedicated to all those HARCORE acts! Yeah, you know them brothers that we used to Look up to, that fell the FUCK OFF! And now they doing all that R'n'B sh.(crocker!) You mean Rhythm and Blues? No! Rappin' Bullsh... Connection A, click, what? My dick, chick I smack a fish if you thinks My connection ain't thick, dick Headed like a punk whip I travel miles with a rhythamic lip I rock an Afro In '83, gee, yo And spray the sheen so I get a Soul Glow I play the corner tough And me and Mase pull puffs on a blunt Givin' high-five is what I want So I puff a blunt, I don't front I get spliffed, get a stiff Then I go hump a stunt Like a pimp pro (Nah, man, a super ho) That's cool cause I'm still an Afro bro Yeah, I'm live for my life is hectic Every hour, every minute, every second I keep a level head and stay down to earth Cause I've been an Afro since birth Yeah Now I hold my crotch cause I'm top-notch I run amok like Sasquatch, and I like to eat live crab I've got five beepers, you scab But you can find me directly on the Ave (You niggas cheat me, well who's that!) My breath never smells wack I eat the watermelon Tic-Tac Before I kiss myself I always jump back (Yo G, this track is stack) (And you know that) I do three flips When a punk flip on my duke lift But I flex more strength when I'm asleep On the other side with his main tapes Make her dry her face, buy her gold earlocks But I may, she flocks round me like a donut She got sprinkles but I bite my way out More brothers come about, try to scheme slick But the Native Tongue's thick Lick 'em real good, like a real hood should But the fly tape let the car speakers shake I ran a cop down, I smile a frown with a but Show gold teeth, cause I ain't a vegetarian Not scared of beef, sport a feather like Chief Got a scribble pad, you can get these gonads Cause I'm big-willed, won't arf like a seal Cause connection with the Afro is real I be the gift of gab, but be a bro is a diss Because it's tough to bluff a cab No wonder Melle Mel is 'Rrrr-RAH!' I play of tape of the son of La-di-da My cousin Rilo sells blow, a G a day Keeps his kids hooray, a size nine and half I kicks my tricks, is to live for Island I mug a mug vic, but I's cool, I self With the quickness I bust the true slang Show no pit to those who don't understand The Maseo got tailed with the big bail I busted loose but now the blue goose is on my tail I seen the ghetto, go lower than it is (He don't care, cause his nigga's selling crack to the kids) My jeans are brand new, with twelve more In the closet with my silk, and velour My 45 pack thick, draw quick If a nigga starts some shibidibidit My crib is uptown, downtown, L.I And another crib in Queens I munch some cornbread, Boar's Head My favorite pork chops and A plate of collard greens I chill with Shymel, Akeem, Jahid And the Rastafarians'll be the crown in And the Poppa But the connections are still a high five (Let's, get busy)