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Writer's Block
'WRITERS BLOCK'
It ain't easy. It aint easy…(echo)
Barely 2 am
I'm at it again
Gripping this pen
Writing another song, hopefully this one, it is a gem
Cross my fingers, compose a jingle. Hope this single spins
But I barely listen to the radio, don't know what 'in'
Perhaps I follow trends
but nah I know deep down within
That's not me. Might as well be a leaf blowing in the wind
By following THEM
Hopefully nobody I subliminally offend
But I can't relate to what they say
How much they make and spend
I can't pretend
My life is grime
My pockets super thin
Yeah rub it in...
Benjamins, ballin' and whipping your benz
I turn the tv off
and now I'm back at it again
Gripping this ink pen
Hopefully this song will connect with THEM
And draw them in
Is anybody out there listening?
They whisphering…
You can really hear it, if you listen in
Must be tripping
Look at the clock, its nearly 3 am
I dose off only minutes later to hop up once again
Cuz man…
The day I stop
Is the day when I catch writer's block
Meantime I'm chilling right here glancing at the clock
My eyes are shot
I try to rest but I toss and turn alot
So I get back up and NO I can't sleep cuz of these racing thoughts
That I got
These visions I see just can not be blocked
Too many concepts. Too many ideas 'off the top'
Things just keep coming right and left, Sometimes I wish they would stop
Hope this ink pen runs out of ink as I just write and jot
Grab more notebook paper
Stack of pens
a pack of 10
Lyrics just pouring in
the time now going on 4am
I close the window, cuz the rain now is just pouring in
As I sit back down, I begin to catch my 2nd wind
A click of the pen
I start writing, but then I just drop a grin
Scratch that out. Ball that up. Toss that in the bin
All these ideas flowing out at once. Nothing's making sense
My head it spins from all these concepts that have been trapped within
I take a break. Click on the radio… Oh god not again
They keep saying hiphop's dead
I think its just low on oxygen
Too much politicking, hating, dissing, beefin', knockin'. DAMN
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Just stop with the 'reality show' shit and just drop a jam
THE VERY BEST YOU CAN
Yo flow. Go ham
Cuz I know I am
I be damn, if I let a critic's opinion box me in
That's what I'm thinking…
Don't know why sometimes I hold it in
Just then I pick up the pen sitting right next to the empty soda can
And once again
The day I stop
Is the day when I catch writer's block
Meantime I'm chilling right here glancing at the clock
My eyes are shot
I try to rest but I toss and turn alot
So I get back up and NO I can't sleep cuz of these racing thoughts
That I got
These visions I see just can not be blocked
Too many concepts. Too many ideas 'off the top'
Things just keep coming right and left, Sometimes I wish they would stop
Hope this ink pen runs out of ink as I just write and jot
As I write and jot
I eye the clock
Its 5am
My body tells me to stop but I can't seem to drop this pen
Too many songs up top
Nonstop they just keep rolling in
By the time, I'm done
It's 9 o clock going on 10 pm
Just then my phone it rings
Its fam and friends, like 'Where you been'?
Just right here at home
writing songs working on music, man
By the tone of their voice, I can tell that they don't understand
Just then I put the phone on silence
lower the lights on dim
It seems to set the perfect mood, no matter the mood I'm in
I cue the music. Its so therapeutic, it just sucks me in
Soon as I can picture the concept, like a movie, film
I pick up the paper with the lyrics. Press record and vent
I nail it. First attempt, cuz hell I give it 200%
Cuz deep down I know this is more than a hobby
Its DELIVERANCE
Soon I'll be out of this predictament, I'm living in
Until then
I'll be documenting my life through this pen
THE END…
The day I stop
Is the day when I catch writer's block
Meantime I'm chilling right here glancing at the clock
My eyes are shot
I try to rest but I toss and turn alot
So I get back up and NO I can't sleep cuz of these racing thoughts
That I got
These visions I see just can not be blocked
Too many concepts. Too many ideas 'off the top'
Things just keep coming right and left, Sometimes I wish they would stop
Hope this ink pen runs out of ink as I just write and jot
(Barely 2 am, I'm at it again. Gripping this pen)
* echo
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