Lyrical Breakdown of Capture - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "Capture" not only celebrates Gang Starr'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!

(DJ Premier) "Give a nigga pain" -> Big Shug "Listen to a brother who knows" -> Guru "Give a nigga pain" -> Big Shug "It's the real... it's the Militia" (Big Shug) First name vete-, last name -ran I drop bombs hit you with the curse of? Jevron? Broken arms, shattered glasses, whipped asses I advise you to tell us where the cash is Itchy fingers cause nothing but gun fire We disallow all these cats in the camp We the champs, not really to boast and brag Bustin' heads, body bags and toe tags Black mags to blow your whole chest in half If you don't know the equation then you can't do the math I know you cram to understand the plan, but you too Caught up in the rapture, front and we will capture See men and strap ya, cock back and blast ya Blow up your fuckin' house while we still lookin' at ya Militia man... man part three (DJ Premier) "Put your money in the bank, and hold rank" "Give a nigga pain" -> Big Shug "Listen to a brother who knows" -> Guru "I push these lyrics through any emcee and make it burn (burn)" -> Freddie Foxxx "Put your money in the bank, and hold rank" "Give a nigga pain" -> Big Shug "Listen to a brother who knows" -> Guru "It's the militia" -> Freddie Foxxx (Guru) Just to feed the babies I'll infect you like rabies With a lust for the gravy, you know the god must be crazy I'm sick with it, I'm built with stilts for you midgets While you fidget, you could get kill't for your digits I'll creep on the low, keep it a secret yo I swore an oath to dump on you, out the Jeep window I don't care if you a geek or a thug, you sleepin' on us And you could catch it, some royal heat from the snub Since the streets is watchin' niggaz might see us often We told you rap cats we would keep it poppin' See all I got is a lot of bad news for y'all You're gonna need more than a lot of tattoos on y'all You got an army, you still ain't got no wins against us You're gonna need more than doo rags and Timb's against us And fuck your goons 'cause we always get what we're after We bought you this book of torture, this one is Capture (DJ Premier) "Put your money in the bank, and hold rank" "Give a nigga pain" -> Big Shug "Listen to a brother who knows" -> Guru "It's the militia" -> Freddie Foxxx (Freddie Foxxx) There's one ripped out the frame, felony act Everybody get the fuck up, welcome me back I'm the unseen hand that controls 200 niggaz Parked while on the street out of unseen vans I'm the law of the land, the rawness of man That'll show up on stage, puffin' on contraband Capture, duct tape rapture, slapped ya Served up my Venus and Serenas, cocked back Clapped ya - to Internet emcees I'm virus I'm a warrior, niggaz screamin' "Bumpy shot Cyrus" I'm checked in to every hotel that you lay in Niggaz come to my suite to pick up heat Y'all know who wrote the bible in rap, for keepin it real Y'all know who buck fifty your face, I'm keepin concealed It's capture, get out the truck, I'm keepin' your wheels You've?, 'cause you've got a gun you never conceal I leave my hardcore demeanor in every rap arena And underground club that I play in I spit raw verses that y'all ain't sayin' 'Cause your soul was bought for what they payin' You wanna have Bumpy's heart you got to have Bumpy's chest I'll bust right 'till I find just Bumpy left I'll bust mics 'till I have just enough breath To take your heart, it's thug grand death CAPTURE!