Lyrical Breakdown of Apollo Kids (feat. Raekwon) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Apollo Kids (feat. Raekwon)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Apollo Kids (feat. Raekwon)" 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 Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon 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 Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Apollo Kids (feat. Raekwon)" not only celebrates Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon'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!

Uh-huh, uh-huh, motherfucker, uh-huh

Yeah, I see that, I see that

All y'all fake motherfuckers up in the joint, huh

Stealing my light, huh

Watch me, duke, watch me

Yo, check these up top murderers

Snowy in the bezel as the cloud merges

F.B.I. try and want word with this

Kid who pulled out bust a shot up in the Beacon

Catch me in the corner not speaking

Crushed out heavenly, U.G. rock the sweet daddy long fox minks

Chicken and broccoli, Wally's look stink

He with his man straight from Raleigh Durham

He recognized Kojak, I slapped him 5, Masta Killa cracked his Heine for him

Everybody break bread, huddle around

Guzzle that, I'm about to throw hair on your back

Since the face been revealed, game got real

Radio been gassing niggas, my imposters scream they're ill

I'm the inventor, '86 rhyming at the center

Debut '93 LP told you to Enter

Punk faggot niggas stealing my light

Crawl up in the bed with grandma

Beneath the La-Z-Boy where you hid your knife

Ghost is back, stretch Cadillacs, fruit cocktails

Hit the shelves at Paul's Pastry Rack

Walk with me like Dorothy, try to judge these

Plus Degrees, sessical Rasta fiends

Getting waxed all through the drive-thru

Take the stand, throw my hand all on the Bible and tell lies too

I'm the ultimate, splash the Wolverine Razor Sharp ring

Dolomite, student enroll holding it

Aiyo, this rap is like Ziti, facing me real TV

Crush at high speeds, strawberry kiwi

As we approach your hood, the gods bail (bail!)

These Staten Island ferryboats cash bail (bail!)

Fresh cellies, 50 deep up in the city

We banned for life, Apollo Kids live to spit the real (real)

A pair of bright phat yellow Air Max

Hit the racks, snatch 'em up, son, 20-dollars off, no tax

Dream merchant tucked in the cloud, stay splurging

Rock a eagle head, six-inch height was the bird

Monday night, Dallas vs Jets, dudes slid in with one hand

Two Culture Ciphers, one bag of wet

Heavy rain fucked my kicks up, wasn't looking, splashed in the puddle

Bitch laughing, first thought was beat the bitch up

Moseyed off gracefully, New York's most wanted cheeba hawk

Seen the yellow brick road, I stole the pastries

Same Ghostface, holy in the mind

Last seen Manhattan Chase withdrew the 6-8 digit in the briefcase

Rawness, title is Hell bound

Quick to reload around faces, surround look astound

We split a fair one, Poconos money, gin rummy with glare

Spot the lame, bit his ear

Yo, and taste a teaspoon, 300 goons, stash balloons

Locked in lab rooms, hit with the Glock, spazzed in Grant's Tomb

Clocked him like a patient, his stocks fall, hustle invasion

Knowing now, we copped the block off

The chain tri-color, freezing in velour, icicle galore

Gas station light gleaming on the wall

Cop WiseGuy jams, James Bond vans

Niggas flipped Timbs, rock boats under water, watch clams

Pose for the standoff, mad timid

Hoping that the gun fall, guessing like lottery balls, yo

Aiyo, this rap is like Ziti, facing me real TV

Crash at high speeds, strawberry kiwi

As we approach your hood, the gods bail (bail!)

See Staten Island ferryboat, cats bail (bail!)

Fresh cellies, 50 deep up in the city

We banned for life, Apollo kids live to spit the real (real)