Lyrical Breakdown of It’s Like That - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "It’s Like That" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Lupe Fiasco weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "It’s Like That" 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 Lupe Fiasco 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 Lupe Fiasco's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "It’s Like That" not only celebrates Lupe Fiasco'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!
Ludacris in this motherfucker
What up Talib? Disturbing tha Peace
God damn it, we just getting started
Mixtape style it goes like this, look here
Now Ludacris out the gate and damn it it's hunting season
When you shot remember everything happens for a reason
And you never hit it right, that's why I'm snatching your girl
She calls me Mr. Drummond, cause Diff'rent Strokes rule the world
I got a thirst for knowledge and a appetite for drama
Or an appetite for destruction, and a thirst for your mama
Either way I keep it going 'til that thang is empty
Been nice since Mike Tyson punched Soda Popinski
Chicks keep getting stung cause they all in my swarm
Plus I step in they dorm and get more cheers than norm
It's 2004, the world needs more lesbians
And more drunk drivers, to hit drunk pedestrians
They walking round here with two left feet
But warm milk and a cold scowl put your ass to sleep
I'm in these streets still no matter how ugly it seems
Long as I got on my bulletproof Buddy Lee jeans
Kweli and 'Cris, niggas never heard no shit like this
I got your chick feeling moist
You coming softer than an ad in the back of the Village Voice
You still a toy, the cops'll steal the boys
They trying to get me to vote by saying
The lesser of two evils is still a choice
Well maybe and maybe not
Niggas rhyming like the guy 80 Glocks
You home watching I Love the 80's, stop
Picture the ocean with the panoramic view
My flow the iceberg that the Titanic ran into
Ooh I, rock like suicide victims wear flannel
While your rhymes sound like they was written by Clear Channel
I used to, drive through fifty states and hear fifty flows
Now every city knows, the same songs
It's just a game of pimps and hoes
And the kids think the key to getting down in the game
Is to copy the hot nigga and start sounding the same
Now you trying to be heard but your shouts is in vain
Cause you drowned out by the buzz that's surrounding my name
Lame, the mic is something that you can't pry from me
Shout out to I-20, some of my rhymes is good money
Whether rolling with Achmed and Durban, swerving the streets
With Shaka Zulu, Shanna and Luda Disturbing tha Peace
I murder the beat, I'm the nightmare that recur in your sleep
My word is the flesh like the wafer
That the nun got the converter to eat
They say he the lamb of God, herding the sheep
A whole flock of followers, nigga do you believe?
Yo what's poppin'? It's the kid Game
And my nigga Ludacris, my homeboy, my dog
My brother from another mother, Talib Kweli
And this is how we do it man, hate it or love it
Yes, who fresher than I? D. Dies
Red and black lumberjack, 45 in his Levi's
Yeah since knee highs I watched Eazy-E rise
Put L.A. on Illmatic but they ain't believe Nas
That was '96 in the Jeep high
Ty told me they don't believe you
Start writing rhymes after B.I.G. died
Eyes puffy, some niggas saying fuck me
Cause I'm from the west, I'm fresh and I idolized Dougie
Now N.Y. hug me, still niggas wanna hate
I'm embraced by 50 states and the west side love me
Biz told Dre I'm the nigga to chase
And it been that way, since the beef with Jigga and Ma$e
In my Chuck Taylors, red ones with the fat laces
Tan khakis, Desert Eagle with the hollow tip laces
Fresh white tee, yellow rocks in my necklace
Real gangstas drink 40 ounces for breakfast
I eat Fatburgers three times a day
So fuck you if you don't like the red paint on my six tre
I was born in the hood, I be who I be
And me and Kweli is like Mack 10 and Dub-C, nigga