Lyrical Breakdown of Disciple - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Disciple" 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 "Disciple" 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 "Disciple" 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!

2004, yeah L, what up? (Prophesy!) Yeah! Prophesy, baby Disciple, Disciple (what?) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (let's go!) Word to mama, any lineup of rhymers Could bring any drama, anytime, the city's mine, Nas is like Love Undying, Money's My Bitch in Thugz Mansion Thugs dancin' around the fly shit Pharaoh garment's Prada, Egyptian camelback-riders Pyramid architects, Perignon bottles Money, jewelry want me then come get me Hit me but don't miss me, you history Lead flowin' around like a Frisbee, Italian dons from Sicily kiss me This ain't 50, this ain't Jigga, this ain't Diddy, this ain't Pretty Pain, power, pussy and pistols, lyrically no one Hold none near me, hear me Kids cheer me like The Count of Monte-Cristo Steady poundin' soundin' like G without the lisp though My big bro told me plain and simple, "Nas do not look back" Watch where you took rap, no bookbags and trucker hats Just army jacks and diamonds that's flashin' What the fuck is that, freestyle Disciple, Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (Esco!) Like Paul, Michael and Matthew, Peter, James and Andrew Phillip, Simon and Judas - I'm disciple of music Street beats is the main thing minus the traitor And I'm not a dictator, I'm the righteous invitin' you haters Inside the life of the greatest, it'll take you through something real Get a smack in your face, 'cause I hurt up, trauma-tize, llama Bust shells, destroy yet tryna prevent violence If I present iron somebody dyin', don't even worry 'bout it Then dress warm for the cemetery climate When I speak I need cemetery silence, terror See me, gold Hummers, Lamborghinis, man who stole the summer Hand straight gleamin', if I don't know you toe-tag you Drag you through the cement, fo-fo maggie Body parts in my man's Maserati car, then party hard in Madagascar While rigor mortis'll grab ya, him retarded, I'm pass that Gloves on, where the mask at? Too many love songs All the thugs gone, what happened? Where's the passion? Rappers battlin' non-rappers, carryin' on backwards Laughin' sayin' Nas thinks he's Farrakhan preachin' blackness Hell yeah, awareness is my alias Word to the "Braveheart" written on my bare chest The realest, here it is! Disciple, Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (street's!) Disciple (Esco!)