Lyrical Breakdown of C.R.E.A.M. (Cash Rules Everything Around Me) (A Cappella) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "C.R.E.A.M. (Cash Rules Everything Around Me) (A Cappella)" 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 "C.R.E.A.M. (Cash Rules Everything Around Me) (A Cappella)" 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 "C.R.E.A.M. (Cash Rules Everything Around Me) (A Cappella)" 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!

I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side Staying alive was no jive Had secondhands, Mom's bounced on old man So then we moved to Shaolin land A young youth, yo, rocking the gold tooth, 'Lo goose Only way I be gettin' the G off was drug loot And let's start it like this son, rolling with this one and that one Pulling out Gats for fun But it was just a dream for the teen who was a fiend Started smoking woolas at 16 And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes Making my way on fire escapes No question I would speed for cracks and weed The combination made my eyes bleed No question I would flow off and try to get the dough all Sticking up white boys in ball courts My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater Times is rough and tough like leather Figured out I went the wrong route So I got with a sick-ass clique and went all out Catching keys from across seas Rolling in MPV's every week we made forty G's Yo nigga respect mine or here go the TEC-9 Ch-chick-POW, move from the gate now It's been twenty-two long hard years of still struggling Survival got me bugging, but I'm alive on arrival I peep at the shape of the streets And stay awake to the ways of the world cause shit is deep A man with a dream with plans to make cream Which failed; I went to jail at the age of fifteen A young buck selling drugs and such who never had much Trying to get a clutch at what I could not The court played me short, now I face incarceration Pacin' - going upstate's my destination Handcuffed in the back of a bus, forty of us Life as a shorty shouldn't be so rough But as the world turned I learned life is hell Living in the world no different from a cell Every day I escape from Jakes giving chase, selling base Smoking bones in the staircase Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed But I'm still depressed and I ask what's it worth? Ready to give up so I seek the old Earth Who explained working hard may help you maintain To learn to overcome the heartaches and pain We got stickup kids, corrupt cops, and crack rocks and Stray shots, all on the block that stays hot Leave it up to me while I be living proof To kick the truth to the young Black youth But shorty's running wild, smoking sess, drinking beer And ain't trying to hear what I'm kicking in his ear Neglected for now, but yo, it gots to be accepted That what? That life is hectic