Lyrical Breakdown of Plastic World - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Plastic World" 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 "Plastic World" 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 "Plastic World" 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!

Yeah, Kool Keith should keep it real He should rap about space and Mars Yo, I'm tired of looking at everybody, same boots, skully hats in 90 degree weather, looking to get into clubs for free I'm not smoking blunts, or looking for jazz records at the Roosevelt I left New York, the city itself was stress depression High boots and urban beats, that wasn't my direction Producers filtering join in with R&B A million rappers, some clones trying to sound like me Biting my space styles, biting my horror core All I saw was Kool Keiths on my thaw Record companies had G'd off all my royalties Watching vinyl spin, local groups' wack MC's Some try to rap with that perpetrate mobster crap Karl Kani jeans, fat stomachs in the limousines Mixtapes by wack DJ's adds doo doo play I'm on the turnpike, the city drifting down the highway Like a mirage, the style there is all illusion On videos out of town, peoples buy confusion Rolling high with cash pulled over down my eye Since I've been out, y'all can't see Is the world made of plastic? Is the city buried in dreams? Yeah Is the world made of plastic? 'Cause that's the way is seems, ow Is the world made of plastic? Is the city buried in dreams? Yeah Watching TV so bored, while imbeciles hold the mic cord Graffiti playgrounds are played out, yo how'd that sound? Army fatigues are weak, is for the minor leagues No rapping cyphers or brothers in the rented Benz Crews on stage, acting hard with a thousand friends I saw the place turn plastic, crackers looping beats People with no deals, walk men rappin' on the streets I turned my back, 90 percent of the city sounded wack Payola scams switched DJ's like a rubber band Everybody clear with beats trying to be Premier Clearing samples, your SP-12 fake examples My money grows with green from my own label While you act rich with no cash on the bigger label Your tri state ways are shut down by barricades In fact I packed my bags, and listened to E-40 Mac Mall, C-Bo, and other rappers you don't know You're narrow minded and styles of mind you won't find it My sound proceeds with moog and undertone bass No comic gimmicks with beats rapping in my face I come back real, solid rock razor steel Taping your program, show the world I'm the man You copy Poppa Large, the industry is large Is the world made of plastic? Is the city buried in dreams? Ow Is the world made of plastic? 'Cause that's the way is seems, yeah Is the world made of plastic? Is the city buried in dreams? Ow Is the world made of plastic? 'Cause that's the way is seems, yeah As I do see sorta rugged wack beer commercials Some rappers are bought and puppeteered like the Ninja Turtles From Manhattan I heat up, yo light up Times Square I make noise like open high hats on your cheap snare No promotional shows, girls wear corn rows People with hooded sweaters on crack keep me on my toes I walk with straw hats, fake glasses in the projects Bring my ghost image so tense on the line of scrimmage Playing my numbers, waiting for the five to come Spaghetti out the window, people acting dumb Fire hazards wake the neighbors, your family's nosy I come and go as I please on blockhead MC's You bought new sneakers, no car, scrambling on the corner I'm not the star you are, the city's fallen far By mechanism, you're on my tip Stay off my penis, you've duplicated me for years Yeah, yeah, yeah, you are the one Is the world made of plastic? Is the city buried in dreams? Ow Is the world made of plastic? 'Cause that's the way is seems, yeah Is the world made of plastic? Is the city buried in dreams? Ow Is the world made of plastic? 'Cause that's the way is seems, yeah, ow