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 /
 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