Lyrical Breakdown of Scarface - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Freddie Gibbs & Madlib feat. Big Time Watts weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Scarface" 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 Freddie Gibbs & Madlib feat. Big Time Watts 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 Freddie Gibbs & Madlib feat. Big Time Watts's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Scarface" not only celebrates Freddie Gibbs & Madlib feat. Big Time Watts'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!

Blood gushing, I think I hear a sirens Chiefing on that, think I hear my heart beat Freddie smoking, got me rolling stogies on a dark street Let's jack this nigga cause he got some shit we can't afford Another day in Gary, 'nother couple niggas in the morgue He got the beating, his weed crumbs on plush seats Niggas wanna hate, they get yellow tape'd and white sheets And he steady talking, my chopper, he gonna let it rip All the bullets tagging my name on this banana clip Life's a bitch, I was a virgin, hope she let me fuck Pray I miss before a nigga bust his last nut Homie '84 got the same ribs that mine had Freddie jumped up in it like freshman year with the dime bags I started small time, dope game, cocaine Pulling stick ups to the nigga from a no name Diamond bezel, went from pebbles to a whole thing Now them punk detectives in my section know my whole name Gibbs, nigga (Interlude)