Lyrical Breakdown of My Soul - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

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

This lyrical analysis of "My Soul" not only celebrates The Pharcyde'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!

("My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation") The way that momma raised us was pure faith So Diablo wouldn't faze us or daze us Or lay us down to sleep Know the wolf from the sheep Or the sheep who cried wolf And threw the deadly hoof While the wolf was asleep I keep my mind a ghost Follow my heart the most Don't play fools too closely Put my eyes at post So Diablo won't be hostin' the game of life The knife sits by throats of the young And blows death straight through the lungs As the mind gets washed by visions of sugar plums But we shall overcome 'cause we ain't dumb But we ain't smart, they got the girls by the hearts And the niggas by the nuts Ear, tongue and butts Yeah, they're trying to fuck us up But, shit, you know what's up We gotta come with the movement and move men soon They consume every womb who bares Beneath the stairs of their doom Before they let a new soul bloom Best believe they're gonna shove 'em in a tomb Every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own Every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own Every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own See, every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own (*scratched* "My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation") Early Saturday mornin' I was cartoon gazin' Slowly broke into the kitchen To fill a bowl with some Raisin Bran As I ran up and down the TV stations I witnessed Indian Joe getting tricked out of this nation By a silly hillbilly who laughed as the shit happened Everything's the same, the game continued into rappin' Deception is at an all-time high Give a piece of your soul to receive some crumbs from the pie But you know I keep on rappin' until the break of dawn Even though it is my soul that I do not even own You know I keep on rappin' until the break of dawn Even though it is my soul that I do not even own 'Cause every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own Every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own Every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own Every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own I was po', black,broke beyond a shadow of a doubt Ass-out, wide open waitin' for my shit to come on out Speakin' about the time before I got signed I was coolin' behind Coolio in the County Line My big brother used to say I was an asshole Didn't graduate, couldn't handle the hassle Of high school, why fool Wit' foolish rules and guidelines Fuck the cap and tassels Said forget the trade and tried rhymes Hooked up with J-Swift, got with 2-4-2 Me and my nigga L.A. Jay back at SCU I grab the MIC one-time, check it, 1-2, we in Freakin' major flavors with my fellow Nubians Takin' shit to the next level Too bad I sold my soul to the fuckin' devil 'Cause every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own Every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own Every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own Every time I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2-inch reels that I don't even own (*scratched* "My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation") Yeah, this is going out to my man, uh, Self Jupiter You know what I'm sayin', locked up and shit This goin' out to you, baby Muthafuckin' Pharcyde for '94 (*scratched* "My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation")