Lyrical Breakdown of Logic - Porta one ft. RZA - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Logic - Porta one ft. RZA" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how RZA weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Logic - Porta one ft. RZA" 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 RZA 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 RZA's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Logic - Porta one ft. RZA" not only celebrates RZA'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!

Funkmaster Flex (Funkmaster Flex, Funkmaster Flex) Oh, we gotta put the fuckin' camera on that joint Let it spin around, see the room (bring the motherfuckin' ruckus) We should literally (bring the motherfuckin' ruckus) Put that shit right here and just let it spin (Bring the mother, bring the motherfuckin' ruckus) Around the room, you know what I mean? But, anyway (bring the motherfuckin' ruckus), yo I come rough, tough like an elephant tusk I'm that motherfucker Tarantino, dawn 'til dusk Hit the homie Mac DeMarco like "What up, my man? I need some raw shit" And he recommended the Tascam I'm talkin' hip-hop shit straight to tape He did the Salad Days demos on it and it sounded great Any real musician listenin' can relate I feel like the RZA recording in '88 Prince Rakeem, I fuckin' blow like Hiroshim' I'm on the scene, never flippin' scripts like a pharmacist I am quite the opposite, talk shit, get hit quick Give a fuck what you talkin' 'bout, y'all can suck my dick This that DOOM shit J. Dilla, Madlib, MadGic comin' soon, shit I get the pussy wetter than a monsoon hit, y'all Ayo, ayo, y'all play games, MoCap, I don't cap I do this for the love of hip-hop, I don't rap Open up your chest like EMS light Who the best? Don't give a fuck, but don't test my mic It's Logic Bring the motherfuckin' ruckus Bring the motherfuckin' ruckus (haha, hey, yo, yo) I rip shit, hardcore like porno flick bitches Classic like turntables, beatbox and floppy diskettes A young Tom Cruise is with me and we're risky business I delivered more gifts to the game than a thousand Christmases (Psht-psh) like a yellowjacket teamed with those metal ratchets Spin your head back like DJ Scratch about to scratch it Smack the fader, the rapper's sabre swings, decapitates you Leave your couch stained like Jheri curl activator Soul Glow, Soul Train, voice blow like Coltrane Boomerang back to the track, push your hair back You need more than Rogaine, no pain, no gain Like Patti LaBelle say, but me and Logic, it's no thing Vinyl Days, Vinyl Days, leave your mind astray Even with application maps, they can't find the way Back to pure hip-hop tracks, Marley Marl, Biz Markie BDP, Eric B., Kool G Rap, and Large P, please, ha