Lyrical Breakdown of Let The Games Begin - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

Lyric Overview: Witness how Kool G Rap weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Let The Games Begin" 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 Kool G Rap 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 Kool G Rap's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Let The Games Begin" not only celebrates Kool G Rap'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!

Yo, I come in the form of danger lurking

Blastin' a mag, straight to murking

Shot at strangers from out the Ranges and Suburbans

Curtains for anybody perpin'

Leavin' 'em hurt for certain

Blood on the curb, with bandages like turbans

We roll the Durban

All in this dirt, puffin' the herb in

We bring the verbs and

Double actions loaded with Germans

Area's urban, block's hot where we be swerving

Gun fights strike like a serpent

Leave your nerves jerking

Lay down any person

Strictly for just target rehearsing

The skills remain tight as Holy Mary the Virgin

Slowly carry the burden

So we varied the shit you heard and

Hit you with the different methods and versions;

We simply

Let bullets rip until the clip is empty

Get laid in your tracks as if you was SMPTE

Hit you like Jack Dempsey

The MAC-packin' emcee, with gats clappin' like an MP

Open your friendly wimpy, frame like a M.D

Blow you until your block's windy

Be on sort of a shot frenzy

My Glocks don't stop 'til the cops end me

Blow only hollow tops in me

Hazardous shit - guns is accurate

Sendin' niggas to meet the King of Nazareth

Playin' me close has a risk

I bash cliques like they was masochist

Blast of tear gas, thinking I'm pacifist

Pass the fifth

One last kiss before your ass is missed

These bastards is gettin' clapped by the strapped activist

Kool G. Rap (repeat 2X)

Yo, let the games begin

The Tec and MAC-10 flames begin

Thugs to the end, my whole crew insane with sins

Hammers to firing pins

Me and my kin be makin you spin

The Lord or The Devil be takin' you in

It's the Corona, Queens apocalypse

My block is hit with a dark eclipse

Take in the hostages and grab the Glocks and clips

The rap's apostle, as big as the Loch Ness

Large as Colossus is

Marvel at shit, get shot at the esophagus

The thug saga novelist

Sex in this rap shit; monogamous

Raining like the tropics, while you be topic-less

Blood money monopolist - do it for eons

Shining like it's, neon - heart colder than freon

Deciding which emcee to pee on;

Baby cause that's the shit that we on

Niggas go to Warrick like Dionne

Put the G on

I analyze guys with Montana eyes

And vandalize any man alive, soon as the hammer rise

Cut em down like samurais

Kickin' that real shit that you fantasize

Niggas step aside and recognize

That G the real cat, pack a steel gat, baby feel that

Leave you laying flat wit' ya' shit clapped and peeled back

Battle at this rap shit'll put you in back of a Cadillac

A bad decision; fuck up your whole vision like cataracts

Red roses on a dead foe

Laying in wet clothes from head blows

Your whole brain be exposed

Get your body torn out the frame from lead throws

None of my victims ever bled slow

Stiff as Edgar Poe, that's how it goes, baby