"WRITERS BLOCK" It ain't easy. It ain't easy…(echo) [Verse 1: 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… / CHORUS: 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 / [Verse 2: SANOVA] 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” sh** 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 / CHORUS: 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 / [Verse 3: SANOVA] 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 s**s 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… / CHORUS: 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 Outro