Lyrical Breakdown of Mr. Sandman - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Method Man weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Mr. Sandman" 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 Method Man 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 Method Man's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Mr. Sandman" not only celebrates Method Man'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!

This is (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) Serious, the craziest d-da (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) Day-da danger, dangerous style Lyrical shots from the glock Bust bullet holes on the chops I want the number one spot With the science, of a giant New York defiant, brutal like domestic violence Silence of the Lambs, occurred when I slammed in Foes grab their chairs To be mad as Ralph Cramden Others come with shit, as silly as Art Carney But my Tetley triplies, more kids than Barney Nobody must stress there's three bags of sess A damn I rest, playing chess, yes My thoughts be sneaky like a crook from Brooklyn When you ain't lookin', I take the queen, with the rook then I get vexed, layin' phat trax on Ampex Amorphous God, gettin' drunk, off a triple X Violent time, I got more love than valentines The violent mind, I blast with a silent nine My hazardous thoughts to cut the mic's life support short Brains get stained like tablecloths when I let off Powerful, poetry pushed past the point of no return Leavin' mics with third degree burns Let me at 'em, I cramp your style like a spasm Track em through the mud then I bag 'em We're screaming hardcore, hip-hop drips out my balls And I be raw, for four score plus seven more I strike like a bowling ball, holding y'all hostage Like jail, electrifying the third rail Peep the smash on paragraphs of ruckus Wu-Tang (Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit) Hot time, summer in the city My people represent, get busy The heat seeker, on a mission from Hell's kitchen I gets in where I fits in for head touchin', listen Enemy, is the industry got me flippin' I don't give a fuck tell that bitch and a nigga I'm killin', snipin', catchin' murder cases Desert stormin', I be searchin' for Oasis As I run a mile with a racist Pullin' swords, hit the Billboard with a bullet Peace to the number seven Everybody else get the fo' nine three eleven (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) I don't know what's going on If you can take us there Yo, watch me bang the headpiece there's no survival My flow lights up the block like a homicidal Murder, underground beef for the burger P L O, criminal thoughts you never heard of I switch, the city never sleeps, life's a bitch I shit, runnin' through bitches like Emmitt Smith Caution, niggaz best to be careful crossin' The street, before they end up layin' in a coffin' Don't sleep, niggaz tend to forget, however Peep this, my nigga, case lives forever What evil lurks in the heart of men? It be the shadow, street life, flowin' again I had a plot, scheme, that I knew for sure Only one kick would knock the hinges off the door The jerk tried to jet, Sabrina at his neck Thirteen pounds on the table plus a tec Just when I said, "Where the fuck's the cream?" Another jerk came out the kitchen with the M 16 He tried to cock it, blast these shots like, rockets Crushed his collarbone, ripped his arm out the socket My move for the table was swift, I got my hostage (The nigga tried to stab you God) But I dodged it Niggaz said, "Carlton youse a ill motherfucker" 'Cause I made it look like they both killed each other And I'm out (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)