Lyrical Breakdown of A Few Words For The Firing Squad - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "A Few Words For The Firing Squad" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Run the Jewels weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "A Few Words For The Firing Squad" 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 Run the Jewels 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 Run the Jewels's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "A Few Words For The Firing Squad" not only celebrates Run the Jewels'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!
I woke up early once again, that's four days straight
I didn't wake you, baby, I just watched you lay
In the radiation of the city sun
I am in love with you, it is my only grace
You know how everything can seem a little out of place
All of my life, that seemed to be the only normal state
So feelin' normal never really meant me feelin' sane
And bein' clear about the truth
And bein' sane have never really been the same
I used to wanna get the chance to show the world I'm smart
Isn't that dumb, I should've focused mostly on the heart
'Cause I seen smarter people trample life like it's an art
So bein' smart ain't what it used to be, that's fuckin' dark
You ever notice that the worst of us have all the chips
It really kinda takes the sheen off people gettin' rich
Like maybe rich is not the holy, ever-lovin'
King of nothin' fuckers, know we know you're bluffin'
You are dealing with the motherfuckin' money-money runners
It'd be a lie if I told you that I ever disdained the fortune and fame
But the presence of the pleasure
Never abstained me from any of the pain
When my mother transitioned to another plane, I was sitting on a plane
Tellin' her to hold on, and she tried hard, but she just couldn't hang
Been two years, truth is I'll probably never be the same
Dead serious, it's a chore not to let myself go insane
It's crippling, make you wanna lean on a cup of promethazine
But my queen say she need a king
Not another junkie, flunky rapper fiend
Friends tell her
He could be another Malcolm, he could be another Martin
She told her partner
I need a husband more than the world need another martyr
Made in Atlanta, Georgia, where I use to ride the MARTA
With a empty .22 in the front pocket of my Braves Starter
Tryin' to make it out the mud as a baby father is much harder
The same children that you love and adore, the court'll use to break and rob ya
Circumstance woulda broke a weaker man, but I put it on my mama
I'm a man of honor and the hardship made me a better money runner
This is for the never heard, never even got a motherfuckin' word
This is for my sister, Sarah, honey, I'm so sorry you were hurt
This is for the dawn, mama took a knock, had to change the locks
Dusted up and brushed off and I watched, talk about a boss
For the holders of a shred of heart even when you wanna fall apart
When you're surrounded by the fog, treadin' water in the ice cold dark
When they got you feelin' like a fox runnin' from another pack of dogs
Put the pistol and the fist up in the air, we are there, swear to God
Black child in America, the fact that I made it's magic
Black and beautiful
The world broke my mama heart, and she died an addict
God blessed me to redeem her in my thoughts, words, and my actions
Satisfaction for the devil, goddammit, he'll never, ever have it
This is for the do-gooders that the no-gooders used and then abused
For the truth tellers tied to the whippin' post, left beaten, battered, bruised
For the ones whose body hung from a tree like a piece of strange fruit
Go hard, last words to the firing squad was, fuck you too
This is the story of a couple of small-time hustlers
Framed by crooked cops and forced to make a run for their lives
Nothin' but a bag of money, a stolen Buick Grand National and each other to their names
They ain't friends, exactly
These guys have a better chance of killin' each other than beatin' the odds
No sir, they're brothers, and when the chips are down
I really don't think you wanna bet against
Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave)
Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave)
Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave)
Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave)
Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave)
Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave)
Oh, Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave)
Yankee and the Brave (Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave)