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letra de writer's block - eloquor

[verse 1]
come step into my ride, let’s go for a spin
the tank’s pretty much full, we need to have a conversation
it’s nothing too serious, heavy or cunning
just something that’s been wonderin’ ‘round my head, lurking, buggin’
see? i got this thing, it’s called a writer’s block
where the pressure to perform is makin’ all thoughts stop
i’ve got a million stories stored up in here
but i can’t seem to get even one to reappear
on the paper to save me like makin’ a baby
for posh [?] and a lesbian lady
lately, i’ve found that all squares have gone round
i might get with mary and buy myself a pound
smoke up my sorrows, move up to byron
throw me some chickens and herbs, i’ll be fine
but there’s one witch to my marvellous plan
my wife foot in the green, probably flee with another man

[hook]
don’t (don’t) know (know) what (no!)
i’ma do with this writer’s block
you see i bought this beat
and i better write good ‘cause the sh-t ain’t cheap
i said i don’t (don’t) know (know) what (what?!)
i’ma do with this writer’s block
mate, i bought (bought) this (this) beat (beat)
and i better write good or jase’ll f-ckin’ freak

[verse 2]
let’s go to the park for a touch of inspiration
but starin’ at gr-ss isn’t helping my situation (uh uh)
i need some themes, solid, important and real
somethin’ my fans will feel and all the poor pr-cks steal
i’d k!ll for a topic with substance (substance)
[?] cookin’ up crumpets
been starin’ at the blank page for close to two weeks
eloquor’s in his room with the beat on repeat
pen in his hand but the page is all blank
bright, bare and white as squeaky beach sand
i planned a mad verse to fit with this joint
but my brain’s gone to adverse and i don’t see the point
i’m annoyed and feed up, stuck in the mud
let’s hope there is a midget in the afl ruck
my tongue’s all in tangles, twisted and torn
worn out in chems like a raider in the morn

[verse 3]
that’s it, i’ve had enough, i’m stoppin’ right here
the h-ll with all this rapping cr-p, i need a new career (f-ck it)
‘cause boots are never cheap and studios are pricey
tourin’ leaves me out of pocket numbers always [?]
it’s like my head’s gone under key and lock
eloquor’s frozen up, goin’ into shock, what?
i’m runnin’ out of words (um…um)
like most blokes, chattin’ up hop birds
i really don’t want to become
slaughter me, sew my mouth and never talk to me
lock me up and hide my map
rid me of my tongue and tie it in a sack
throw it in the barra for a barramundi snack
there’s no barra in the yarra so the last line’s wack
(donny, man, there is no f-cking barra)
but there’s no barra in the yarra so the last line’s wack

[outro]
i’ll f-ckin’ crack it
words don’t come easy
keepin’ it sleazy (it ain’t breezing)
jase on the beat
keeping him on his feet

- eloquor

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