Lyrical Breakdown of Daughters - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "Daughters" not only celebrates Nas'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!

Check it out I call it Yeah Yeah Yeah, yeah For my brothers with daughters, I call this For my brothers with daughters, I call this For my brothers with daughters, I call this For my brothers with daughters I saw my daughter send a letter to some boy her age Who locked up, first I regretted it then caught my rage, like How could I not protect her from this awful phase? Never tried to hide who I was, she was taught and raised like A princess, but while I'm on stage I can't leave her defenseless Plus she's seen me switching women, pops was on some pimp shit She heard stories of her daddy thuggin' So if her husband is a gangster can't be mad, I'll love him Never, for her, I want better, homie in jail dead that Wait 'til he come home, you can see where his head's at Niggas got game, they be tryna live He seen your mama crib, plus I'm sure he know who your father is Although you real, plus a honest kid Don't think I'm slow, I know you probably had that chronic lit You're 17, I got a problem with it She looked at me like I'm not the cleanest Father figure but she rocking with it For my brothers with daughters, I call this For my brothers with daughters, I call this Not sayin' that our sons are less important (Aah! Aah!, Aah! Aah!) For my brothers with daughters, I call this For my brothers with daughters, I call this Not sayin' that our sons are less important (Aah, okay!) This morning I got a call, nearly split my wig The social network said, "Nas, go and get ya kid" Is on Twitter, I know she's ain't gonna post no pics Of herself under dressed, no inappropriate shit, right? Her mother cried when she answered Said she don't know what got inside this child's mind, she planted A box of condoms on her dresser, then she Instagrammed it At this point, I realized I ain't the strictest parent I'm too loose, I'm too cool with her Shoulda drove on time to school with her I thought I dropped enough jewels on her Took her from private school, so she can get a balance To public school, they too nurture teen talents They grow fast, one day she's ya little princess Next day she talking boy business, what is this? They say the coolest players and foulest heartbreakers in the world God gets us back, he makes us have precious little girls, uh For my brothers with daughters, I call this For my brothers with daughters, I call this Not sayin' that our sons are less important (Aah! Aah!, Aah! Aah!) For my brothers with daughters, I call this For my brothers with daughters, I call this Not sayin' that our sons are less important (Aah, okay!) And I ain't tryna mess ya thing up But I just wanna see you dream up I finally understand It ain't easy to raise a girl as a single man Nah, the way mothers feel for they sons How fathers feel for they daughters When he date, he straight, chip off his own papa When she date, we wait behind the door with the sawed off 'Cause we think no one is good enough for our daughters Love (Love, love, love) (Everybody, love)