It's always hard to think of what to rhyme about
Just need something to vent all my emotions out
Pen to a pad is my deadly habit
It hurts to say but I'm an addict
I feel like a prisoner inside my own home
The warden to keep me in is a microphone
Telling me to come up with something new
But I haven't got a clue
Of the words I needa spew
Lost friends, girls I loved, So what I gotta loose
Should I rhyme bout the girl that broke my heart
Should I rhyme bout the girl that made my heart drop from the start
Cause she f**ing beautiful
Treats me fine which isn't usual
Actions sweep off her feet, gotta be dutiful
Should I be, talking about people in the middle east
Dying from disease
Have shrapnel k** them in the streets
Never too sure of what to talk about, maybe I I've lost it
Never too sure if I need to keep the mic or drop it
Should I give in and be like everyone else when they rhyme
Talk about hoes, gold, and the ice
But I wear clothes that hardly look nice
This pen and pad feel like a ball and chain
This was the art I used to escape my pain
Yet I'm right back where I started again
Always pushing myself to my best potential
Not saying sh** just bars on an instrumental
It's cool here and there but not for every song
Thinking should I make it short, should I make it long
Should I try I sing, or should I go in strong
Should I drop the mic and work on the flow
Should I stop writing so much and take it slow
Should I actually get out and be somebody
Should I be like everyone having fun and party
But I'm pacing around asking myself these f**ing questions
My head is aching and I'm heavy stressin'
Write a couple lines, crumple up the paper and trash it
Got something in me, but I just can't hack it
Haven't noticed gotta lot pain in me and this is how I mask it
Trying to write something that will give me chills
Let me try and pop a couple Adderall pills
I feel everything and my emotions come up
Even with this, I'm having trouble to sum up
Exactly whats on my mind this time
Can't think of exactly what to rhyme
f** it just write a couple sh**ty lines
Slap em together, pick a random beat
Record for hours, f** getting something to eat
Keep recording and writing til I fall asleep
Listen what I got finished
Realize it's wack, control, alt, deleted
I'm getting pissed, I'm all off the next day
Friend come up to me, like I never seen you this way
But I mute it out, just kicking it to different beats
Hoping the words will hit me, and I'll feel the beat
Maybe I'll find the perfect words while I'm in this f**ing seat
Just holding onto a pencil, staring at a blank paper
That only has two lines a couple hours later
These songs are paintings, the words are colors on my palette
Holy sh**, the words are coming to me I think I have it
Writing this track not with ink, but with my soul
Finish recording the sh** sounds dope
Let me show you exactly how it goes!