Writer's Block - Sanova

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)