Lyrical Breakdown of How Ill - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "How Ill" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Jeru the Damaja weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "How Ill" 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 Jeru the Damaja 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 Jeru the Damaja's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "How Ill" not only celebrates Jeru the Damaja'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!
Skills? Skills?
Listen, I got crazy skills
I'ma tell you like this
I'm so ill I snatch the food out the hungry lion mouth
Jog from Brooklyn to DC on I-95 south
Without getting fatigued I travel at light speed
Get shot with a bazooka, dog and barely bleed
I can touch a lightning bolt, and not get shocked
Put shots at the president and won't get knocked no shittin'
Swim with the sharks and I ain't never been bitten
Have Nelson Mandela quoting the shit that I'm spitting
Make one phone call I get pulled me apart
And another call I kick it with Osama Bin Laden
Have every lesbian chick, begging for dick
Make that nigga Al Sharpton cut off that old perm shit
Spit fire out my mouth like the mythical dragon
Own a unicorn horn smoke the blunt with the leprechaun
Squash ghetto beef before the weapons are drawn
Bring lash back to life and put his black ass on
To get this ill takes practice, to get this ill takes practice
Nasty
I'm so ill I have mike Bloomberg cutting me checks
Pimps instruct they hoes to pay me for sex
I make extra chips teaching David Blaine tricks
NASA called my lab before they launch rocket ships
So ill, Jackie Chan calls me the black version
After finished rapping I'ma be a brain surgeon
I can see the planets clearly without a telescope
Went to Rome to rock so they try to make me the Pope
I have Oprah in the crib posing for exotic flicks
Take a trip to Fort Knox and pick up like 80 bricks
Free all of the wrongfully imprisoned people out of jail
And when I'm finished with Oprah I'll snap flicks of Gail
I'll rip the mic all night without taking a breath
Swim the Atlantic Ocean without taking a rest
Or getting wet
I always win so gamblers place your bets
I'm taking MC's to Maury for maternity tests
To get this ill takes practice, to get this ill takes practice
And it goes like this
I'm so ill they model computer chips after my brain
When a country in drought they call the kid for rain
Bring peace to the Gaza strip 'cause I got so much clout
Mario owe me dough for knocking Donkey Kong out
Wolfgang Puck gave me paper to teach him to cook
JK Rowlings asked me to write the next Harry Potter book
I can feed a million people with one piece of injera
Darth Vader don't really know I'm Luke Skywalker father
I spend my down time writing scripts for Scorsese
When I blow shit up I make the terrorists hate me
I'ma probably end up living until I'm one hundred and eighty
My stamina so legendary, Wonder Woman trying to date me
My touch cures the sick, like an antibiotic
Slap up Steve Austin, and short out his bionics
Raps on point just like a Navy Seal gunner
I'm taking shit over this summer and every summer
To get this ill takes practice