Lyrical Breakdown of We Made It (feat. Superb) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "We Made It (feat. Superb)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

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

This lyrical analysis of "We Made It (feat. Superb)" not only celebrates Ghostface Killah feat. Superb'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!

"Tony Starks fights again for survival, And by just a thin thread of electric current Wins another victory." [Superb (Ghostface)] Ugh, c'mon, yeah, c'mon y'all (Bounce wit us) Hip-hop (What? Celebrities, what?) (Street corner) For all my niggas Crack spot niggas *Chip Banks starts to sing "we made it"* Chicken ass mothafuckas, envious bitches Yo, you know what y'all... Make me wan' pop sumthin', no champagne Two-five on me, weed and crack stalk me Bitch motherfucker tried to get a rep' off me Leave him there, never know, get him off me I remember days when we just fucked bitches Bought a lot of clothes and just played the ave. Now we rap niggas with a lot of wardrobes And if we want a nigga dead we pay the cash I ain't tryin to waste my career on y'all Even scuffle with y'all, waste gear on y'all But if I gotta go out, you know I'ma show out You gon' fuck around and get your whole back blown out I remember on the Island, can't tone out The mess hall crawler, about to zone out Dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out We just dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out [Chip Banks] See. see. see me I roll with Ghost and cats that carry they toast and Make the post and from pagin, sin astasian When it's time to bust off them things, it ain't a game man We rocked out own diamond rings, see them 'Bling, Bling' Got big boy toys, Porsche, Sixes Dime bitches, told y'all before we import those Jury stay froze, court cases get closed Niggas hate Nino cuz how fast I roast them Like George Jefferson and em, steppin on em The headline read, "Starks had the weapon on em" The best, what y'all expect? He a vet Plus the best, now tell me how we gon' foul When we dealin with 'Supreme Clientele' [Chorus: Superb - American Cream Team x2] >From Riker's Island to the Camay Island We thugs like, life is the same challenge Do the knowledge, recognize your talent And if you live the streets, you better stay silent [Ghostface Killah] Yo, spotted at a mirage, Ghostface walked by groupies Minkal monk stars, I come in cat, invades Mars Hallyed at a sanctuary, first dent placed upon entry Fainted when the book mentioned me Keep ballin, new systems, high sciences Drop that, Ghost listenin, the track sizzlin Angelica, Judey Plum for bitches, Goines king of the century Best sellers, but niggas stay together Posted up trucks, leanin on the Benz Cinemax smile shot in thrity-five lens You program, broke bottles of Dom Seven inch bangles, back breakers I'm a dope feed, look at my art, Popeye strength Rap with a British accent, Gucci clothes Dennis Coles in the latest fashions Blow backs in, flip raps like fourty-eight bundles Dinner plates, deadly front gates, celeb Brian Gumble [Hell Razah] Interlapse this in like Deniro, words in your center earhole Blocks of ice like Sub-Zero, we been right since day zero Shatter your soul like glass windows Turn verses to nymphos, pop these hollows at fake cats in a Tahoe Wild out, throw your liquor bottles at hood rats to the richest models We conversate like Christ and the twelve apostles Livin life without you, can't count you as great men Murderers in the state pen', bein caged in The wage is a sin, before they read up they pop our tape in You ain't gotta tuck you chain in cuz here we want the head of Satan Durags and our pants hangin *Chip Banks starts to sing "we made it" again* [Ghostface] Uh-huh, uh-huh That's right y'all Street corners Jail niggas Riker's Island Ge-Grey Haven Big Un That's right y'all Word up All y'all, all y'all crumbs We made it, nigga Step the fuck off True indeed, true indeed Yeah, Ready Red That's right, my nigga Born That's right yo Lil' Free in the feds That's right, you'll be home nigga Yeah, we made it Yeah, C Allah, word up That's fam Yeah, check it out Staten Island True indeed Five boroughs Check it, uh-huh