Lyrical Breakdown of Queens Get The Money - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Queens Get The Money" 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 "Queens Get The Money" 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 "Queens Get The Money" 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!

Queens get the money, niggas steal screamin' paperchasin' Presidential candidates is plannin' wars with other nations over steak with masons Pregnant teens give birth to intelligent gangstas they daddy's faceless Play this by your stoamch let my words massage it and rub it I'll be his daddy if there is nobody there to love it Tell him his name Nasir, tell him how he got here Mama was just havin' fun with someone above her years Niggas is still hatin', Talkin' that Nas done fell off of rhymin' He rather floss with diamonds They pray "please God let him spit that uzi in the army linin' That shorty doo-wop, rollin' ooo-wops in the part reclinin'" Take 27 emcees, put 'em in a line and they out of alignment My assignments retirement hidin' behind 8 mile and the chronic Get rich but dies rhymin', this is high science Now add 23 more for Queens to B-more I'm over they heads, like a bulimic on a see-saw Now that's 50 porch monkeys ate up at the same time Nasty Nasdaq, y'all gonna bow homes, this Dow Jones 80-cal chrome, needed time alone to zone The mac left his iPhone and his nine at home A queen used her milkshake to bring y'all to my slaughterhouses I do this for the group home kids in boarding houses This that nigga shit that's on the album For them niggas inside the chalk line and forty houses Bring back Arsenio Hip-hop was a border so Nas breathes life back into the embryo Let us make men in our image, spit it I'm Huey P. and Louis V. at the eulogy throwin' Molotovs for Emmitt You ain't as hot as I is All of these false prophets is not messiahs You don't know how high the sky is The square mileage of earth or what pi is I'm the shaky hand that touched George Foreman in Zaire The same hand that punched down devils that brought down the towers