Paroles de 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