Lyrical Breakdown of Funny Money - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Funny Money" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Talib Kweli weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Funny Money" 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 Talib Kweli 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 Talib Kweli's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Funny Money" not only celebrates Talib Kweli'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!
Yeah
Ladies, make it hot, girls, make it hot
Ladies, make it hot, girls, make it hot
Ladies, make it hot, girls, make it hot
Mr. International, passport pimpin'
City street dweller every asphalt different
Hittin' with Jean and The Roots
My man Black Thought rippin'
Now a glass goes whistlin', my rap flow's switchin' up
Wait, the promoter bitchin', is this asshole trippin'?
Why my cash flow missin'?
Don't fuck around this is how I make a livin'
Stop, listen, get the guap'
My kids can't eat my love for hip-hop
This ain't the circus, I don't see no big top
So - who ya tryin' to clown your money like Chris Rock
Don't make me laugh wit'cha funny money
Yeah, uh, yeah, he, he, he, he, he, eh, yeah, yo
These promoters shady
And they good for broken promises
Some of them scared of the hood
So they only promote the colleges
I'm havin' problems with excuses
Especially when it comes to my money
And the contract is exclusive
They sell the tickets wit'cha name up in lights an' shit
But when it's time to pay they came up with all type of shit
Or tried to pay me in marijuana
The crowd was so thin he blamed Osama
And the Twin Tower bombers
In my pocket like a thief and there ain't no honor
Livin' all reckless like there ain't no karma
You ain't on punishment, I ain't your momma
I just had to expose the truth like Leonardo DaVinci
When he paint Madonna
Hey, hey hey, c'mon, uh, whoa
Illegal business control America
Illegal immigration, gun control hysteria
The war on terror, war on drug, now everybody have vices
So we still gettin' higher than gas prices
Yeah we have righteous MC's, ready to infiltrate
The system like a disease and bring it right to its knees
Who ain't fuckin' with the pay for play, that shit is gay
Get down with Blacksmith or get the fuck out the way
E'rything's straight! Just get out from under the table
I'm not a pimp runnin' a stable
I'm a kid with a vision runnin' a label
With the freshest MC's with somethin' to say too
We cuttin' the umbilical cord from the navel
Willin' and able to change the game for the better
A lot of crews claim they together
Then they fall apart and blame it on cheddar
Please, I stay professional in all my endeavor
So we about to blow like Parliament in V for Vendetta
They try to get you with the funny money