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lirik lagu writers blok – future funk squad

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[verse 1]
i used to be the number one writer on my block
now this writer’s block’s keepin’, so my writing’s stopped
i used to sit down at my desk and set my sound system playin’
and before they could say “how’s it comin’ along?” i’d have the track locked
content, footnotes, themes, and plots
non*explicit edits in case we’re top of the pops
i had the breakbeat, drum*bass, hippy*to*the*hippity*hip hop
proverbial, my bellowed cherries on top
years spent in the wilderness of anonymity
gradually i’d got some clarity, things were lookin’ brighter
sick and tired of being compared to [?] with no artistic flair
who dared to claim they’re talented when all i heard was noise
flash your f*ckin’ lights on
egotistic little blighter
shyster
frontin’ like some bare*knuckle fighter
type of scene i’ve never been in
hollow meaning
snuck away from the mayhem, made a transition into writer

[chorus]
insomniac marine, i’m doing better with the night time
rem anew, despite my calm mood, i’m tryin’
to make a livin’ sellin’ triple*dig insights
crippled from the wrist down, i just can’t write
why is it, my creative composite is on a time lock?
the opposite of rappers that lie, i’ve got a rhyme plot
lockin’ what i’m droppin’, got this rhyme not stoppin’ me
got to get my head up off this writer’s block
[verse 2]
verses came easily, not workin’ for no measly fee
smokin’ greenery, we richer than judie
twenty*somethin’, livin’ like an oap
smokin’ a pipe, wearin’ my slippers, two pm tv
so i’m wicked and i’m lazy, not guilty was the plea
i had the right to be, seein’ what the graveyard
the day became the night to me
girls i never met would sit and write to me
leavin’ me recievin’ red*hot mail upon my pc
urge to be heard, message to send
all i needed was the narrow*feint and rollerball pen
i had a girl back then but even that turned sour
getting caught in the shower her old man was in
shoutin’ “blood runs thicker than water!
ought to slaughter this reprobate
trying to copulate with my daughter!”
i sent the floor thoughts to the window
made a break and broke my legs ’cause it was twenty feet below
k!ller blow after another, on the stinkin’ bad luck
can’t get my head up off the writer’s block, my pen’s still stuck
(stuck, stuck, stuck, stuck, s*)

[chorus]
insomniac marine, i’m doing better with the night time
rem anew, despite my calm mood, i’m tryin’
to make a livin’ sellin’ triple*dig insights
crippled from the wrist down, i just can’t write
why is it, my creative composite is on a time lock?
the opposite of rappers that lie, i’ve got a rhyme plot
lockin’ what i’m droppin’, got this rhyme not stoppin’ me
got to get my head up off this writer’s block
[verse 3]
like a [?] bread tryin’ to calm the birds, the words won’t come to me
grammatically impotent, on the brink of tragedy
thinkin’ around the problem, let me thoughts walk naturally
sort a playground prodigy to come and do the work for me
grant, the goal strider, for a while worked perfectly
peeps callin’ student grant is work for other kids for university
in my loft writin’ verse for me
tactical maneuvers, some napoleonic strategy
took him to my bookings where the kid discovered
he became a [?] paperchaser with those black hole orbs
typewriter jaw now, grant’s a lost cause
he won the best newcomer at the hard house awards
record execs hot flashin’, gettin’ [?]
hoppin’, poppin’ down my phone like we’re havin’ phone s*x
but i [?] if the album isn’t perchin’ on my desk
i’ll break your golden handshake, take back your rolex
back in my flat in my wifebeater vest
watchin’ a betamax, dreamin’ about my vhs
nevertheless, i guess the nine*to*five is what must come next
got this verbal constipation, i can’t squeeze out the text
so if you ever takin’ a hike around this writer’s block
you better watch your steps ’cause this next right is not feeling too hot
i had the girl, got dumped, and the label, got dropped
and i seem to be less popular now since the bubble popped
this all stopped
my inner k!ller lyric pen stopped
k!ller in the lyrics had no weight, the lyrics that i got
left an ad for my mic up in my local shop
and now some blighter rocks from [?] and all i’ve got is writer’s block
[chorus]
insomniac marine, i’m doing better with the night time
rem anew, despite my calm mood, i’m tryin’
to make a livin’ sellin’ triple*dig insights
crippled from the wrist down, i just can’t write
why is it, my creative composite is on a time lock?
the opposite of rappers that lie, i’ve got a rhyme plot
lockin’ what i’m droppin’, got this rhyme not stoppin’ me
got to get my head up off this writer’s block
insomniac marine, i’m doing better with the night time
rem anew, despite my calm mood, i’m tryin’
to make a livin’ sellin’ triple*dig insights
crippled from the wrist down, i just can’t write
why is it, my creative composite is on a time lock?
the opposite of rappers that lie, i’ve got a rhyme plot
lockin’ what i’m droppin’, got this rhyme not stoppin’ me
got to get my head up off this writer’s block

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