Lyrical Breakdown of The Diary - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "The Diary" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Scarface weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "The Diary" 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 Scarface 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 Scarface's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "The Diary" not only celebrates Scarface'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!
What, fade me how?
Shit, on this rap shit
Come on, nigga
I brought my chopper an' my hard hat
The shit's fucked up now show a nigga where the war at
'Cause I'm about to clean house
Stick this AK up your ass an' blow that fucker clean out
'Cause you niggas in the wrong
You came up short an' now we finna get it goin' on
I ain't your average motherfucker
You step out of line an' watch a motherfucker bust ya
'Cause you done came at me the wrong way
I ain't no Clint Eastwood, nigga
An' you done picked the wrong day
So bring your ass to the battleground
Rat a tat tat, like that is how my gat'll sound
Avoid no niggas 'cause niggas be human
I squeeze the trigger an' niggas be movin'
'Cause I don't point it in the air
An' pull the trigger, why?
I'd rather point it at yo' ass an' watch the nigga die
I gives a fuck about your team mates
When it's all said an' done
You're gonna wish you never seen 'Face
You shoulda seen that lil' nigga, Brad
James through here, seen Dave an' yo, that nigga bad
An' your homies better stand still
Don't make my brother Warren bust one of you bitches
'Cause the man will
Don't bring your ass to my picnic
'Cause I done had it up to here
With all you niggas talkin' that bitch shit
So you better get your shit right
I'm from the state where you rarely see
A motherfuckin' fist fight
It's all about the gun blast
So you can miss me with that bullshit
You spittin' with your punk ass
It's 'The Diary' of a born killer
Don't have to worry about me fallin' off this thang
'Cause I'm a strong nigga
Doubt my regard of the hard
With niggas behind me from East Oakland to the South Park
I've got the mind of the man right behind you
You can run, you can hide but I'll still find you
Like I say, there's no getaway
An' I'm gon' have it where
Your family'll have to throw your shit away
It's the return of the real niggas
I'm prejudiced to a certain extent but still I kill niggas
I'll bust that ass on the fuckin' double
So push on with that ho' shit, bitch
'Cause you don't want trouble
So get your ass up of my shoestrings
An' let your shermed nigga do things
Ay, ay, ay, where you finna go, fool?
I can't fuck with it, you got it, man
Come on, man, you wanna rap, nigga?
I can't do it, come on
You see, you see
That's how motherfuckers is, dog
That's how motherfuckers be, punk ass hoes