Lyrical Breakdown of Hell - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "Hell" not only celebrates Pharoahe Monch'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!

F-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-follow for now For no formidable fights I've been formed to forget For Pharoahe fucks familiar foes first Befo' fondlin female MC's fiercely Focus upon the fact that facts can be fabricated to form lies My phonetics alone forces feeble MC's into defense on the fly Feel me, for real-a Let's get the skrilla's out the hands of these gorillas Make the whole world feel us From the crack to the cap peelers To the niggas in the back shootin craps wit the axe-wheelers Relax till it's, time for the immaculate miraculous Thirteen, OOOWW, THE ILLEST!! To all my niggas who been shitted on, let's get it on Think I'm gonna let it hang, and sit it on The desk of any redneck record exec I strike em wit the right hand send em a step And this is (Hell!) this is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is Hell, incest kids under pressure In the corner clutchin they genitals by the dresser A hundred CC's of the uncut cleanest In the vein, twenty-four hours of intravenous To the left, we have right wing extremists On a screen a man exposes his breasts with no penis Martinez, probably Just as raw as Lady Saw And Chaka Demus is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is (Hell!) This is, this is, this is, this is This is, this is, this is, this is Yo yo I feel like I'm one of the livest One of hip hop's finest, elite rhymers And I plan to graduate wit honors But one day we'll all be a bunch of old-timers wit Alzheimer's Lookin at our label's roster wonderin how the fuck they forgot us After we done recorded dozens of albums And made em hundreds of thousands of dollars, they still dropped us We givin niggas what THE FUCK they want A holocaust, stompin niggas wit a thousand man march I ain't livin in hell, hell's livin in me That's why I'm always screamin on you fuckin MCs The shit that I quote, float wit the buoyancy of a boat Wit the potency of a scorpion sting to the throat Overdose that's extremely fatal Doctors in white labcoats scramble for an antidote to save you You can't breathe, your chest feels painful Your skin color's goin from dark brown to beige-blue Your whole room's full of angels All in your ear tryin to tell you which God you should pray to You pray to Je-sus, but He don't wanna save you Cuz you unfaithful, so He gives you to Azazel You're paralyzed on the operatin table Prayin for Canibus to slice you from head to navel You banned from TV, banned from CDs Banned from DVDs and downloadable MP3s!