Lyrical Breakdown of Rape - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

(Woman screaming)

I'm obsessed with multiple nude photographs of the beat in my room on the wall

Pondering the verse, fondling my balls

Witness a nigga who will take rap and chase it

Through an occupied dimly lit staircase and rape it

Grab the drums by the waistline (scratches)

I snatch the kick, kick the snare, and sodomize the bassline

Never waste time, I give the verse rabies

Cum on the chorus, tell the hook to swallow my babies

Maybe I might... switch! Let the witch live

The original plan was to kill the bitch on the bridge

Ditch the body parts off somewhere near the cresendo

When my innuendos elapse... my nezuenno attacks

The instrumental elapses,

Perhaps that's the only reason that I spared her life

You could solo my fuckin' vocals and I still get trife

Slice the rhythm... disfigure the face of the groove

For any fader that flies or knobs or button that moves

Consider this: the loops are similar to clitorises exposed

On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of SIN!

That doesn't end til' I stop fuckin'

A million emcees and they ain't sayin' nuttin'

Ain't fuckin it right, they ain't fuckin' it right

They ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right

They ain't fuckin' it like... ME.

(Scratches)

She had the nerve to take the case to court

Knowin' I rape for sport

Took the stand cryin' denying her whole involvement, lying

Why would an ex-cop lie in a sex shop, fly linen down grinnin'

With my coat over my shoulder sittin'

Browsin' pornography (uhh!),

The stenographer smilin' the whole time

While jotting verbal photography

Her eyes mahogany

I flashed to a photo in my mind of a body bludgeoned with slashed arteries

Pardon me, back to the case, slap in the face

Examinin' the jury similar to cracking a safe

What happens to bass? It was anistic, I would inhale eighths

Sniff that, sat her ass all over my face and taste it

To hell wit' 1980 remixes, fuck disco

Turned on the 3000, stuck my dick where the disc go

Yokonaz, ripped the sexy MPC 60, buyin' a ticket to hell

Verbally dickin' the 12 down, sound shitty

I knew she used to be pretty

Too many impotent emcees in this God forsaken city

Ain't fuckin her right, ain't fuckin' her right

Ain't fuckin' her like... ME.