Lyrical Breakdown of My Conscience - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "My Conscience" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Fat Joe weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "My Conscience" 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 Fat Joe 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 Fat Joe's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "My Conscience" not only celebrates Fat Joe'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!
Coca! Krills!
{A-A-A-Al-Al-Al-Al-Alchemist}
Uh hun, uh hun, shit,
My mind playin tricks, my mind playin tricks...
Uh! I don't give a fuck, no! I don't give a fuck, no!
Sex, money, murder, we call this the hit 'em up flow
Barely fifteen, copped my first triple bean
Tryna get wit Fat Cat
And Pappy to do my thing
I'm just a kid, with envisions
And visions of gettin C.R.E.A.M.
Ronald Reagan told me
"Yo, Joey just do ya thing"
Now I'm lookin back, man
I ain't have no conscience
Slappin niggaz silly
Till them niggaz fell unconscious
Speakin of my conscience
Now it be fuckin with me
So-called activist
Try to dis me publicly
And they don't even know where my heart at, heart at
And I don't even know where to start at, start at
But this your conscience speakin
No time for cryin and weepin
You tryin to climb, you reachin
Up to ya prime, you eatin'
You ripped a rhyme last weekend
You cleared a mill, no cheatin'
Who give some fuck what they speakin'?
Just keep movin, leadin!
You from the place of them heathens
Cop needs to see them
For no reason,
Young hustlers in the street bleedin
Moms grievin
Joe, you came up from all that
Fuck that, you taught us how to survive, CRACK!
My mind, my mind, my mind is playin tricks on me
In my dreamin, all they try to put the fix on me
Reminiscin when I used to had them bricks on me
My mind, my mind, my mind is playin tricks on me
Would the critics come at you if you was Arnold Schwarzenegger?
Killing cops in movies (BO! BO! BO!), promotin graphic anger
You should run for governor, Republicans be lovin ya!
Yeah, wave the Confederate flag like some Southerners?!
Nah! I rather be on the block like a hustler
Guns with the mufflers
D's put the cuffs on us
He's an MC and these streets put they trust in us
Yeah Joey Crack, but they also put they lust in us
They fuss wit us, ain't nobody helpin us!
One minute they cheerin us
Next minute they cussin us!
Fuck 'em! Fuck 'em!
Fuck 'em! Fuck 'em! Fuck 'em!
That's that nigga bitch-hoe shit (OHH!)
I don't even trust 'em (OHH!)
My conscience says no
I wanna hit 'em wit a '9 (Haaaaaah!)
These are some thoughts, re-occuring on my mind, now
My mind, my mind, my mind is playin tricks on me
In my dreamin, all they try to put the fix on me
Reminiscin when I used to had them bricks on me
My mind, my mind, my mind is playin tricks on me
Yeah.
Is this my conscience speakin?
Sounds like my mentor
Yup, you guessed it!
How else could I enter?
It's been a couple of years, as we rock the joint venture
You ain't been callin me lately, you don't remember?!
Shiiiiit!
Who you think I got my whole style from?
Them live shows, before the $20, 000
See the 'Rinas, before cocaina
You and Scott La Rock, back to back in them Beemers (Yeeeah)
I was just a young'n on the corner, I'm a slinger
You was on ya album cover, finger on tha nina (BO! BO! BO! BO! BO! BO!)
Flip to 360, now you The Teacha (Yup...)
"Self-Destruction" (C'mon)
Damn, you the leader!
Joe, let's take it back to "Don Cartegena"
You and Big Pun had the whole Bronx demeanor!
560 gear, that Boriqua pride
Did burners with the tats crew on the 2's and 5's
You was with Relativity, I was with Jive
All the BULLSHIT you been through
How you survive?!
Kris, that's why I'm the greatest Of all time
Joe, (I'm) the best!! You must be out ya fuckin mind!
My mind, my mind, my mind is playin tricks on me
In my dreamin, all they try to put the fix on me
Reminiscin when I used to had them bricks on me
My mind, my mind, my mind is playin tricks on me
KRS, Fat Joe, you know what it is
K-R-S-UNO es fresco
My mind playin tricks, my mind playin tricks...
BX, TS nigga - UH!