Lyrical Breakdown of Older Gods (feat. Ghostface Killah, Raekwon & GZA) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Older Gods (feat. Ghostface Killah, Raekwon & GZA)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Wu-Tang Clan weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Older Gods (feat. Ghostface Killah, Raekwon & GZA)" 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 Wu-Tang Clan 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 Wu-Tang Clan's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Older Gods (feat. Ghostface Killah, Raekwon & GZA)" not only celebrates Wu-Tang Clan'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!

Aiyo I roll like a Bat Out of Hell, evil acapell's fly Spitting out of my grill before I hit the sky With springtime colors, juicy as a Sunkist Certain broads double Dutch this, they carve it in they wrist Pillsbury blazes, straightening combs left on the stove Crumbs in my lady hair, plus yours, the look gold God, the old chain and ball technique, got these Vegetable lasagne niggas in they whips, jumping out they seats 18 Bronzeman Part II We like Dorothy Hamill on ice, we in your hood we might circle Hats down low in the Range, switch lanes Change my tire, peel out, real loud on the stage yo I shitted on your hood kid, I shitted on your hood Got to your burner too late, I'm looking real good Draped out, shining like a fresh fifty cent piece "Yo girlfriend, come here, oh shit, you my man's niece" The gourmet pocket twenty, bombs made of clay Sexcapades take place, we fucking forty eight shades Might walk up in your studio, time slap your engineer Lighter fluid to DAT style, hand me the matches now Aiyo rainbow Roley on the wrist, now what's this Niggas bless this, eight and a half, Bally banana twist E shakes, puffing on lye, feeding the seed's plate Pulling out old .38s to rob gates Major wake up, the kid tell tales, make a nigga head wake up Beats break, the nigga whipped, take off his time Honolulu status, gladdest, the rich rock cabbage And dollar vans grands, that nigga mad savage Stationary Hall of Justice, niggas came clumped out Just came home, now they bunked out Money be longer than triple life, till the Sun burn out That's my word, move it with the burner out Fidel way of thinking, roll with the Mac bent Ac-10 Most of my team, Five Percent Check what the live said, rolling with Guess vests pedestrians Yo, holding my nuts, fucking thousand dollar lesbians Yo, the Older God put me on to how to rock this Maintain 360 Lord live prosperous It only takes a lesson a day, just to analyze life One time in the respectable mind Let the shot spark, soon as his pit bull barks Tire scars from skid marks leaves from jams in school parks Witness forget his original statement Even in protection programs there's no escapement Gunned down, three in town hit king from seven crowns Spent rounds, catch him while he rhyme in the Zebra Lounge Wounded, back in the '83 summer heat Up in 3-0-9 park, rhyming off the drummer's beat I stalk the city streets demonstrating mic wrecks All looking stank, I ain't playing with a full deck And as they nervously stare, I know they scared They saw the coming of Wu in neon in Times Square Household name assassin, Killa Bee Mill to the grain that posess the Wu trilogy Quick to spot those that bite camoflouge and blend Those that got styles, they got identical twins Don't stretch the small thing, copycats are finicky Without skills, they master the art of mimicry But I go line for line on the whole page Your unspotted life on the mic is old age