Lyrical Breakdown of What's Real (Feat. Group Home, Royce Da 5'9") - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "What's Real (Feat. Group Home, Royce Da 5'9")" 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 "What's Real (Feat. Group Home, Royce Da 5'9")" 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 "What's Real (Feat. Group Home, Royce Da 5'9")" 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!
What's real?
("The real question is...") What's real?
("Try your best to diagnose...") What's real
("People all around, you got to recognize and witness")
I got soldiers that'll turn shit out, burn shit out
Do I come correctly when it's my turn? No doubt
I twisted trees in the cold with one hand wipin' my nose
Girls say that I'm fly 'cause they be likin' my clothes
But the clothes or the money can't make the man
When I apply my vicious grip, you can't take it, man
Face it and understand, there are no winnings for you
What I'm beginnin' to do, is bring an endin' to you and your crew
I sip a brew and at the same time drink the life out of you
I righteously come through, created in the likeness of who?
G-O-D, can sell a half a line for a G
Check ballistics, you won't be takin' mine from me
Oh boy, you p-noid, heard my lightnin' and thunder
Not Thor but frightening, type of stress I've been under
I'm the one-eyed Jack, I'm here to smack you back
In '83, I seen stacks, run your kicks, take a flick and act
(What's real?) Certified street poetry
In the game a long time, so you know it's me, nigga
(What's real?) Gang Starr, muthafucka, we live
All you fake niggas run and hide, we wanna know
(What's real?) It's Lil Dap in the place to be
We livin' proof, supa star, you see, we wanna know
(What's real?) The Foundation, yo, we presidential
Y'all ain't built for what we been through
Underground, I might as well record in the sewer
Notorious lord of the war, tourin' Aruba
Before I was crawlin' I'd warn you and show you the Ruger
I'ma shoot four through your fedora, destroy your medulla
I could get these niggas X'd, quick as sendin' a text
For disrespect, shit'll be simple as orderin' an Uber
I don't know what's quicker to change, them figures or fame
But I guarantee you don't nothin' move more than the moolah
All these rappers really cut out to do is squash the beef and dip
Y'all need to cut out the diva shit
Every time a nigga like Fever Nina come out the dealership
The streets hear the sound of that Preem droppin' the needle skip
Like Kane walkin' in "The Symphony"
Abel is my brother who all he offers is infamy
I bust Magnums, either strategize or duck faster
I send his whole group home like Melachi the Nutcracker
Preem blowin' weed, he a master on the courts
I'm a student with the rap that's spewin' passion on the chorus
While the smoke is in the air, feel like voodoo's on the floor
'Cause we got the actual ashes of Guru on the boards
He's sittin' right inside an urn in the session
Lookin' down from Heaven to Gang Starr's current regression
Earnin' successes, his legacy get treated like four themes
Movin' forward then let his children eat off the proceeds
(What's real?) Certified street poetry
In the game a long time, so you know it's me, nigga
(What's real?) Gang Starr, muthafucka, we live
All you fake niggas run and hide, we wanna know
(What's real?) It's Lil Dap in the place to be
We livin' proof, supa star, you see, we wanna know
(What's real?) The Foundation, yo, we presidential
Y'all ain't built for what we been through
(What's real?)
("Gang Starr, boy, and that's beyond your comprehension")