Lyrical Breakdown of Set The Mood (Ft. Indeed) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Set The Mood (Ft. Indeed)" 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 "Set The Mood (Ft. Indeed)" 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 "Set The Mood (Ft. Indeed)" 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!

Now check it (sup?) Let me set the mood here aight? (yeah aight cool) We gonna, set it off with In-dee-dee, dee-dee-dee, -deed (Yeah that's right) You know La-la-la-la-ladies first and all that (That's right ladies first) So peep it, you see this girl Who been poppin' mad shit about you So I want you to get into it a little bit I want you to cru-cru-cru-crush that?? I was sittin' on my lunch break, grittin' my teeth It's the last day of the week, man what a relief My arms are sore as hell, I felt rigid and stiff So I turned around and I rolled this big fat spliff That's when I seen her, steppin' out a rented yellow Beemer This local ghetto fame rap cat her name was Tina She was braggin' she was goin' on tour The same shit she was screamin' since the year before Ever since the De La Soul video, she seen me on the TV Heard that she was holdin' a grudge and tryin' to see me Workin underground circuits and mad cyphers of people When she asked who was ill, all she got was Indeed She wanna battle (what?) and it wasn't hard to tell All that I was thinkin' 'bout was tryin' to smoke my L I had four hours left and I was tired as hell Plus it was 12:55 almost time for the bell She had an ill screwface mug, fronting like she's no joke Gangsta bitch profile, boppin' like her leg broke Forty-below Timbos, fatigues saggin' Pullin all her money out her pocket while she's braggin' On her gold fronts with her name on it Her ice finger roll hand g-low while she claim fame on it I peeped the steez, then I crushed her with ease Just for interruptin' me while I was rollin' my trees Aight? (Whoo!) That shit was bla-bla-bla, bla-blaze! (word) Now we gon' se-se-set, se-set this one up For my man Mercenary (aight aight yo let's do this) (Whassup?) Yo, I don't want you to make it like A story or nothin' (aight) I just want-want, want want-want Want you to come on some straight rhy-rhy-rhyme Rhy-rhy, rhy-rhme shit, rip a nigga in his ass! And let him know how we do it, y-y-y'know? Now Maseo puff cheeba, while Rich sniff lines David J push the whip while Candy Cal pull dimes And me right behind, with the shorty gettin' her math To do the Savion routine and just, tap that ass Still the one who kill wackness, man I left them niggas crippled Had em all soft to hard back to soft like a nipple My Art is Official while you're art-ificial Break you down to your very last participle Let me enlighten you, cause your third eye's on dim Me gettin' taken out is rare like a smile from Rakim See I'm remarkable, you're just bull Last name shit, y'all niggas need to quit Open your mitt, and catch this I autograph every word you bit ? Five then take your picture Got an infinity of non-rhymes to hit ya While your whole clan is bland Understand that you must be smokin' pounds of weed out of a pipe And mistook your munchies, for bein' hungry for the mic And now you have to deal with these cats who's truly real Like estates with a pit on the lawn bark at the gates Put the whole entire plate in your face Make the point like who's that on that joint? It's me I'm in everything you see like cran', yo I'm in demand I'm in the club man I'm in your hand Bein bought, I'm even in the thought from your girl The only thing you're in is inactive Your world'll be smashed Run against the Won and you'll be last Like that call for alcohol, depletin' your cash That's how you supposed to get in somebody ass Y'knowhatmsayin? Know-know-know, know-know, know-know that! Hahahahahaha Still not convinced about GHOST WEED? Well check this out: Even if you hit that Yo, im saying Yo, I could do anybody Do one of them Tribe niggas Yo, name somebody I bet you Phife Phife Dawg Phife Dawg, alright im bout to do this Show me alright, just show me I'll show you something else too, But right now I'm bout to show you Phife, ya heard? Alright here we go L-Y-R to the I-C-S Niggas still fussin bout who be the best When diggy dawg bounce too, I put all that to rest Anyone try test I put two in they chest Quest or No Quest I leave venues a mess Don't ask me to collab, me and you don't mesh I stay fresh from the flesh never frontin the fess In the name of Jay Price all mics'll get blessed Peak power possess flavor style finesse Microphone, hunnies: two things I caress To all you fake jiggy niggas, still not impressed Queens I'm repping fully, you think I own the Mets What! You know I'm Phife Phife Nigga, what!? You know how I know you ain't Phife? Cause you done said you owned the Knicks or something Listen man, I'm saying its sports I sound like Phife