Lyrical Breakdown of New York, New York - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "New York, New York" 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 "New York, New York" 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 "New York, New York" 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!
Turn the beat up, yeah
New York, New York; wake up LA
Wave hi to the Chi, let's get right today
I heard them lil' niggas takin' their life away
I heard a couple lil' niggas got life today
Is it Farrakhan, Buddha, or Christ today?
She on her knees so she know what it's like to pray
She got religious so she doin' it twice a day
I strap up, no I ain't throwin' dice today
When you got money on yo head it's a price to pay
And it get cold in the hood, put your ice away
They locked Rick Ross up and they ain't give him no bail
But a cracker shoot a whole church up and it's "Oh well"
Oh well, oh well
Hang him with a confederate flag in his cell
Let him sit there and rot 'til his body turns to bones
Just remember who casted the first stone
New York, New York; good mornin' LA
Say hi to the Chi, celebrate to the Bay
No hesitation like Steph, shoot it right in your face
Cause I'm a Golden State warrior strapped with a K
How's it land of the free, when we're trapped in a cage?
Some shit just never make sense like Magic and AIDS
Some shit just never make sense like bashin' the gays
Obama must be in the city, it's traffic today
Niggas trappin' today just like back in the day
We like Roc-A-Fella Records, we packagin' yay
And that Dirty Sprite 2 shit slappin' today
We got these niggas boxed in like Cassius Clay
And my feregammo belt where that ratchet stay
Cause the police killing too many blacks today
I wake up in the morning like:"who gon' pass away? who gon' blast today? who gon' have to pray?"
New York, New York
Good morning L.A. My nigga Hayes blew him and his wife away
This song is dedicated to Stephanie Mosley, who was murdered from a single gunshot wound inflicted by her husband, Earl Hayes, in Los Angeles, California; December 18th, 2014. I knew Hayes since we were both signed to Aftermath back in 2005. And if I can keep it 8 more than 92 with you, he was a good nigga, I never saw that coming. My prayers are with Stephanie's entire family, I am truly and deeply sorry for your loss