Writers Block

It aint easy. It aint easy(echo)

VERSE 1:
Barely 2 am /
Im 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, dont know what in /
Perhaps I follow trends /
but nah I know deep down within /
Thats not me. Might as well be a leaf blowing in the wind /
By following THEM /
Hopefully nobody I subliminally offend /
But I cant relate to what they say / How much they make and spend /
I cant 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 Im 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 /

CHORUS:

The day I stop / Is the day when I catch writers block /
Meantime Im 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 cant 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 /

VERSE 2:

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.. Nothings 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 hiphops dead / I think its just low on oxygen /
Too much politicking, hating, dissing, beefin, knockin. DAMN /
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 critics opinion box me in /
Thats what Im thinking / Dont 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 /

CHORUS:

The day I stop / Is the day when I catch writers block /
Meantime Im 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 cant 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 /

VERSE 3:

As I write and jot / I eye the clock / Its 5am /
My body tells me to stop but I cant seem to drop this pen /
Too many songs up top / Nonstop they just keep rolling in /
By the time, Im done / Its 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 dont 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 Im 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 Ill be out of this predictament, Im living in /
Until then / Ill be documenting my life through this pen /
THE END /

CHORUS:
The day I stop / Is the day when I catch writers block /
Meantime Im 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 cant 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, Im at it again. Gripping this pen )

* echo

Outro