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letra de writers block - chilla jones

[intro: dj vlad & chilla jones]
yeah baby, we bout’ to switch gears right here
slow it down
next one right here is called, writers block
ya heard?

chea

[hook]
its like

i can’t focus

[verse 1]
i’m just sitting in my room (room)
notepad
pencil (pencil) with the same instrumental playing two hours straight
but not one word down (nope)
ten yards to go (go)
now it’s third down (yeah)
usually it take a half to get a verse down (yep)
and that’s on first down (i’m stuck)
that’s a knockout in the very first round
soon as i get it going (huh)
and start writing
all i’m hearing is sirens outside of my window
now the cops outlining my kinfolk, what’s poppin’? (poppin’)
i just seen my man down the galleria copping
b fitted, b-mpin my music up in his walkman (yeah)
i guess somebody popped em’. for what he bought then
i know his moms trippin’ right now (uh)
maybe i should call (maybe), maybe she don’t know yet
i told em’ not to hang around the pro-jects (i told em’)
paper still empty, i’m making no progress

[hook]
its like

i can’t focus

[verse 2]
i’m just sitting in my room
notepad
pencil with the same instrumental playing three hours straight
but still nothing on the page (nothing)
my brain’s wasted (wasted)
i’m running through a maze tryna jot something down
i don’t wanna wait (nope), i want something now (now)
i need something hot, i put myself on the spot
i think i got the first two lines (let’s see)
i thought it sounded good like the first two times
but na (na), i could top that
i’m in a groove now (i’m in a groove)
let’s go, my pen starting to move now (yea)
then here come moms again (aw) with a knock on the door
and d-mn i wish i had a lock on my door (d-mn)
now she riffin’ and rashing how i been in the lab
pen and a pad and how i make her think of my dad (na)
why you gotta mention my dad?
i’m so stressed
paper still empty, i’m making no progress

[hook]
its like

i can’t focus

[verse 3]
i’m just sitting in my room
notepad
pencil with the same instrumental playing four hours straight
been through three sheets of white line like fiend’s doing white lines
or at least that’s how it seems when i write lines (huh)
now it’s 5 o’ clock and not pm (am)
f-ck, i got work at seven, i gotta be in (huh)
realistically at six i should be leaving
but let me see how many bars i can squeeze in (huh)
looks like i got a voicemail and two missed calls and there both from wifey (let’s see)
one at twelve thirty (yup), one around one, they say
gimmie a call baby, i’m laying down, one (huh)
i know she sleeping so i’ll hit her up later
glancing at the clock, now it’s five fifty-nine (sh-t)
and i ain’t write any lines, no success (no success)
paper still empty, i’m making no progress

[hook]
its like

i can’t focus

- chilla jones

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