Lyrical Breakdown of Church - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Church" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how The Game weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Church" 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 The Game 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 The Game's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Church" not only celebrates The Game'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!

(Verse 1) To all my niggas on the porch getting their hair braided Corn rolled by a L.A. bitch And I can't forget My niggas riding the train Yankee fitted Thermals under that Pelle shit I love New York but gangbanging that's L.A. shit And I'm proud of it Spit it through the wire so the crowd love it Haters you know who you are you can turn it down fuck it I can shoot a video to it and spend half the budget I'm gangsta, let the .40 cal blow in public More hatred inside my soul than Pac had for Delores Tucker Every time one of my niggas get shot the more I suffer Cause we trapped inside a world where your forced to die for your colors I seen it all through the Range tints Got niggas doing life in the state pen So I dread like Jamaicans If I die for one of my statements Than break up the streets of Compton and spill my blood in the pavement (Hook) Believe me niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up Talking that shit like they goin lay me down And then I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't want no parts of me pal Niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up Talking that shit like they goin lay me down And then I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't know parts of me pal (Verse 2) Who I gotta talk to who I gotta write Get my reebok deal done Or Im staying in Air Nikes Aiight, I handle bars you ain't gotta ride a bike To peep game and his skill here go some training wheels Let's roll Through the city of god Where LA niggas train to kill Chop you up hundred times worse than the Haitians will For real naw Pharrell I need a track homie Dre we to close aint no turning back homie Deal with it I'm a be here for ten years Spittin like the ghost of Eric Wright and Big yeah Let me paint this picture While you sit here thinking in the back of your mind this is the shit yeah I spit for you niggas doing 25 on they 5th year ready to throw a nigga off the 5th tier Them white boys in the Abercrombie and Fitch gear And every nigga who ever helped me get here (Hook) Believe me niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up Talking that shit like they gon lay me down And when I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't want no parts of me pal Niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up Talking that shit like they gon lay me down And when I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't know parts of me pal (Verse 3) One brick, two brick The boy moving weight Now three bricks, four bricks I'm driving upstate Five Bricks, six bricks The nigga got cake Not rap money, but money been rap since '88 Look at the world we live in Niggas steady hate, to the heckler at Koch Leave him chopped up like freddy's face Niggas catching feelings Cause I'm about millions And outta all the newcomers out, my flow's the illest You a close second nigga, A banana to a guerilla Put us in the same cage and I'ma have to peel 'em The best of both worlds Rapping and drug dealing Run and tell the chief I came to burn down the village The head honcho, staring out the third story window Of my Beverly Hills condo With two long ass heats I call 'em Shaq and Alonzo You niggas want me outta L.A. Yeah I know (Hook) Believe me niggas keep sayin' they gon' heat me up Talking that shit like they gon' lay me down And when I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't want no parts of me pal Niggas keep sayin' they gon' heat me up Talking that shit like they gon' lay me down And when I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't know parts of me pal