Welcome to the detailed analysis of "A Letter To The New York Post" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "A Letter To The New York Post" 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "A Letter To The New York Post" not only celebrates undefined'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!
Yo, gee
Come and get your New York Post
New York Post right here
Come on, y'all
Get the Post, uh, Post, uh, Post, uh, Post, uh
Coast to coast, uh, New York Post, uh
Yo, New York Post, don't brag or boast
Dissin' flavor when he's butter that you put on your toast
Put my address in the paper, 'cause I smacked that girl
She's the mother of my kids that I took around the world
Disagreements, having scuffles when you share upon
You shouldn't try to drain subjects in a duck pond
If you're gonna tell a story about people's worries
Just mind what you tell 'em, 'cause they don't bring glory (uh)
It only brings agony, ask James Cagney
He beat up on a guy when he found he was a fagney
Cagney is a favorite, he is my boy
'Cause he don't jive around, he's a real McCoy
Yeah, you tellin' Flav we got to let 'em know
Here's a letter to the New York Post
The worst piece of paper on the East Coast
Matter of fact the whole state's
Forty cents in New York City, fifty cents elsewhere
It makes no goddamn sense at all
America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
Flavor Flav is the one that makes The Post money
Writers making violence in headlines funny
Tryin' to undress my past until it's naked
Post got Flavor from sellin' no records
Europe, Asia to the street of New York
Flavor Flav known for his finesse talk
Do it to ya for The Post to employ me
New York Post can't destroy me
Rapper Public Enemy, rapstar beats lover
With the headline of a fucked up cover
Out the pot took plate, New York Post
Get your story straight, motherfucker
It always seems that they make our neighborhood look bad
Here's a letter to the New York Post
Ain't worth the paper it's printed on
Founded in 1801 by Alexander Hamilton
That's 190 years of continuous fucked up news
Yo, one can play the game, two can play the game
Yo, Flav, read on, can't forget you either Jet
Flavor Flav is your best Jet yet
My own people own the most business
Wrote on faith of valuesness
Should have checked with me before you wrote it
Got it from another source and quote it
Put it out like the New Year bull drop
In every beauty parlor and barber shop
Flavor Flav, world renown
Can't keep a man like Flavor down
Yo, Jet, be a good host
Don't print bull like the New York Post
Ah, looks like somebody slipped up here
Well, anyway, here's a letter to the New York Post
Black newspaper and magazines are supposed to get the real deal
From the source, y'all
Sorry, Jet, you took the info straight out of The Post
Burned us like toast
So, when it comes down to gettin' the facts straight about P.E.
Get your shit correct