Lyrical Breakdown of I Am Computer - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "I Am Computer" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Kool Keith weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "I Am Computer" 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 Keith 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 Keith's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "I Am Computer" not only celebrates Kool Keith'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!
I am computer (I am computer)
I am computer (I am computer)
I am computer (I am computer)
I'm race car driven, heavy pissin'
Impossible with my mission
Watch women cook, take her thong off, shit in the kitchen
Hot dogs burn, don't give me no lip and
San Diego Zoo my shit, dolphins come up to my face, I start flippin'
Superstars fart gas out they ass, I listen
My dick and balls nitroglycerin, your pussy need a beautician
S curl relaxer, proacta factor
Vaginal rejuvenator, you fuckin' with the best chiropractor
Eatin' a cheese panini, rappers get excited
Women start to shit in they bikini
Marinara sauce, tonight I'm gonna clean pots
Bake some griddy, wear a lot of apple green
Count the pounds, European
Travel to Ukraine, they talkin' shit
Back home off the top of they brain
I toss your girl some loose change
A couple of ripped up one hundreds and ones
And a Malcolm McNeese, with anestheez
You know a pro gon' take a piss on top of the drums
Count to my hands, get fuckin' sore thumbs
With top turbo shoppin' only in a rehabilitation center
You can't stop me from clothin' and jewelry coppin'
Jealous motherfuckers want me to be a janitor
In they favorite mall moppin', they can't stand it
My voice bounce off they navel so they
End up with a bigger fuckin' stomach
Critics know I write with animosity when
I get in the studio, I'm looney though
Racer X
I am computer (I am computer)
I am computer (I am computer)
I am computer (I am computer)
My engine is curver
I land in the club 'cause I'm Silver Surfer
Grab your bitch a hamburger
Hansel and Gretel this, the way I hammer and metal this
Harlem Globetrot, to my people can't get hot
Rappers corrode, shit stains and the G-strings rot
Tell your man I'm Astro Bird with this
You don't want me to shit on your wife and mix a turd with this
Oklahoma bomber, McVay sittin' in the sauna
Your woman jock Kevin Conner, who the fuck you think you are?
You ain't big as Nirvana
I am computer (I am computer)
I am computer (I am computer)
I am computer (I am computer)