Lyrical Breakdown of Affirmative Action (feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Affirmative Action (feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Nas feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Affirmative Action (feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown)" 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 Nas feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown 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 Nas feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Affirmative Action (feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown)" not only celebrates Nas feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown'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 what... this what they want huh? This is what it's all about. What? Time to take Affirmative Action son They just don't understand, youknowImean? Niggaz comin sideways thinkin stuff is sweet man Yknahmean? Niggaz don't understand the four devils: Lust. Envy. Hate. Jealousy Wicked niggaz man Yo, sit back relax catchin contacts, sip your cog-nac And let's all wash this money through this laundry mat Sneak attack, a new cat sit back, worth top dollar In fact, touch mines, and I'll react like a Rottweiler Who pull the late, we play for high stakes at gunpoint Catch em and break, undress em tie em with tape, no escape The Corleone, fettucini Capone Roam in your own zone or get kidnapped and clapped in your dome We got it sewn, The Firm art of war is unknown Lower your tone, face it, homicide cases get blown Aristocrats, politicking daily with diplomats See me I'm an official mack, Lex Coupe triple black Criminal thoughts in the blue Porsche, my destiny's to be the new boss That nigga Paulie gotta die - he too soft That nigga's dead on, a key of her-oin, they found his head on The couch with his dick in his mouth, I put the hit out Yo, the smoothest killer since Bugsy, bitches love me And Queens where my drugs be, I wear Guess jeans and rugbies Yo my people from Medina they will see you When you re-up on your heater all your cream go between us Real shit, my Desert Eagle got a ill grip I chill with, niggaz that hit Dominican spots and steal bricks My red beam, made a dread scream, and sprayed a Fed team Corleone be turning niggaz to fiends U-Conn's and ninja black Lexus, 'Mega the pretty boy With mafia connections it's The Firm nigga set it Yo, my mind is seeing through your design like blind fury I shine jewellery sipping on crushed grapes, we lust papes And push cakes inside the casket at Just wake It's sickening, he just finished bidding up-state And now the projects, is talking that somebody gotta die shit It's logic, as long as it's nobody that's in my clique My man Smoke, know how to expand coke, and Mr. Coffee Feds cost me two mill' to get the system off me "Life's a Bitch," but God-forbid the bitch divorce me I'll be flooded with ice so hellfire can't scorch me Cuban cigars meeting Foxy at Demars Movin cars, your top papi Señor Escobar In the black Camaro Firm deep all my niggaz hail the blackest sparrow Wallabee's be the apparel Through the darkest tunnel, I got visions of multi-millions In the biggest bundle, in the Lex pushed by my nigga Jungle He money bags got Moet, Sean Don Bundle of sixty-two, they ain't got a clue what we about to do My whole team we shitting hard like Czar Sosa, Foxy Brown, Cormega, and Escobar I keep a fat marquis piece, laced in all the illest snake skin Armani sweaters Carolina Herrera Be The Firm baby, from BK to the 'Bridge My nigga Wiz, operation Firm Biz, so what the deal is I keep a phat jewel, sipping Cristies Sitting on top of fifty grand in the Nautica Van, uhh! We stay incogni' like all them thug niggaz in Marcy The Gods, they praise Allah with visions of Gandhi Bet it on, my whole crew is Don Juan On Cayman Island with a case of Cristal and Papa Chula spoke Nigga with them Cubans that snort coke Raw though, an ounce mixed with leak that's pure though Flipping the bigger picture, the bigger nigga with the cheddar Was mad dripper, he had a fucking villa in Manilla We got to flee to Panama, but wait it's half and half Keys is one and two-fifth, so how we flip Thirty-two grams raw, chop it in half, get sixteen, double it times three We got forty-eight, which mean a whole lot of cream Divide the profit by four, subtract it by eight We back to sixteen, now add the other two that 'Mega bringing through So let's see, if we flip this other key Then that's more for me, mad coke and mad leak Plus a five hundred, cut in half is two-fifty Now triple that times three, we got three quarters of another key The Firm baby, volume one uhh.