INTRO.

Simple and plain, i'm one of the best in this game, y'all can never...Wack.
Yo, Shorty Mic back in your area causing mass hysteria, motherfuckers better beware...Wack.
Yo i'm back to cause havoc (Sigh) God dammit.

VERSE

My brain's dead weight, i'm staring at this empty page.
Frustrated coming up with nothing day after day.
Thinking about committing Hip Hop suicide.
And leaving the pen rest on my pad and the dust accumulate.
Feel like I can't write like I used to.
Letting off raps like an AK that brings pain to you like voodoo.
Feel like i'm going cuckoo, maybe i'm going crazy.
Maybe it's time for Shorty to go rock a bye baby.
But I can't let go just like a bitch with some good dick.
It keeps on pulling me back like a fat ass and some good tits.
My anger keeps building so I lash out and then I throw fits.
Because I can't vent through my primary outlet.
All I want to do is spit rhymes that make people say.
Yo you heard that new Shorty joint? Yo that dude the shit.
But it's just not happening' so I lock myself away.
Till I create a new formula to crack this mental safe.

CHORUS.

What's happened?
I used to write rhymes on the spot but now when I try yo my brain just locks up.
What I do.
I try to force the rhymes on my pad but overtime I do dawg the shit just sounds wack.
This ain't me.
This can't be my destiny its seems my inner critic always gets the best of me.
So what now?
I need to write rhymes on the spot but first (What you gotta do?) I gotta beat writers block.

VERSE

Stress is problematic for creative minds.
Gotta eliminate the situation press rewind.
Go back in time to a time when the rhymes just flowed.
Was told the past could be the answer to your problems yo.
So I stepped through a portal in my consciousness.
And there I was a younger me, writing rhymes making beats with ease.
Wrote my first album in the span of two weeks.
You see my first album was the raw essence of me.
See I was to focused just trying to be the dopest.
I lost my path and along the way I lost my focus.
As the years progressed I started writing less.
The stress of not writing made me manically depressed.
Come on dawg this ain't you, get your shit together.
And stop feeling sorry for yourself.
'Cause time waits for no man the clock keeps ticking.
The only way that time will wait is if you were time itself.


CHORUS.

What's happened?
I used to write rhymes on the spot but now when I try yo my brain just locks up.
What I do.
I try to force the rhymes on my pad but overtime I do dawg the shit just sounds wack.
This ain't me.
This can't be my destiny its seems my inner critic always gets the best of me.
So what now?
I need to write rhymes on the spot but first (What you gotta do?) I gotta beat writers block.

VERSE

So many times i've trashed raps thinking they're wack.
Thinking to much on how will the people react.
See that's the problem, I been writing not for myself.
Started to conform to write like everybody else.
Fuck that, nobodies gonna contort my craft.
Managers saying yo you should do it like that.
Nah, I don't do mumble rap.
I'd rather write some shit that keeps the people coming back.
Writers block got me losing focus and motivation.
I'm frustrated 'cause I feel i'm slowly fading away.
Swallowed by a black abyss of nothingness.
There's gotta be a solution to this.
I'm going back to the basics revising my strategy.
Reaching deep in my soul and reconnecting the battery.
I feel the fog lifting my vision becoming clearer.
So give me the mic, I got some rhymes I gotta recite.

CHORUS.

What's happened?
I used to write rhymes on the spot but now when I try yo my brain just locks up.
What I do.
I try to force the rhymes on my pad but overtime I do dawg the shit just sounds wack.
This ain't me.
This can't be my destiny its seems my inner critic always gets the best of me.
So what now?
I need to write rhymes on the spot but first (What you gotta do?) I gotta beat writers block.