Staring at these blank pages waiting for an idea
i can't take it, waiting to write an make my mind clear
empty canvas mixed up my brains stirred
wait, though of some shit (fuck it) page turned
square one once again another sip another pen
scrunching it, I'm running with one of my other plans
at the moment it aint easy if you noticed they can't beat me
so they leave me, without a motive to try an defeat me
I take my time with rhyme coz it takes me to hell then
you'd now understand why i never had a girlfriend
imagine how iv felt, most times i hate to trust
when i drink it slows down but when awake I'm rushed
fuck, there we go we started it
now gota finish, I'm barely close, my heart is split
iv spilt it, gotten to flow with a cursive tongue
when words just come, whatta ya kno the verse is done

coz i only got a 16 to tell you how my life is kept
every righteous step i try to stress when i write depth
there's just not enough bars and not enough verse
not enough pages to write when my pen is in cursive
a wordsmith, whose now running out of time
when i put my pen to pad i feel I'm running outta lines
an i can't slow down, or take a second to rest
through every sentences that's kept there still expecting my best


no more fucking around now, building momentum
the tension, I'm just sitting here wielding my headphones
I'm placed in my own world where every things cold
this fucken weight on my shoulders gotten heavy to hold
since 20 years old, they wanna know what motivates me
never slow an lazy, clear flow in HD
I'v been pulled apart, maneuvered and split
if somethings too good to be true man it usually is
they ask if I'm alright and its hard to say no
dribbling problems in the taxi, pissed on the way home
where'd half today go?, start to accept my fate
the rest awaits, estimating the second attempts iv made
feel like the atmosphere just collapsed my rap career
the average ear don't get it, coz every actions packed with fear
back on track though coz i was worried for a minute
probably aint listening, aint gonna hurry for the finish

coz i only got a 16 to tell you how my life is kept
every righteous step i try to stress when i write depth
there's just not enough bars and not enough verse
not enough pages to write when my pen is in cursive
a wordsmith, whose now running out of time
when i put my pen to pad i feel I'm running outta lines
an i can't slow down, or take a second to rest
through every sentences that's kept there still expecting my best

watch me outdo my first EP in one verse
truthfully before released my CD i was once cursed
for me to top what i do man, every studio session
got me stressing, but its stupid those pressures
got me writing like this, so fuck how can it be
these mountains are steep, how to make the doubters believe
fuck a therapy session that left my parents then stressing
lie to my psychiatrist, fucked off in less than a second
kept it inclosed, infected then and blessed with a gift
use a pen and depict when this depression exist
forgot to mention iv left em still with there mouth shut
my names like this house coz i was built from the ground up

coz i only got a 16 to tell you how my life is kept
every righteous step i try to stress when i write depth
there's just not enough bars and not enough verse
not enough pages to write when my pen is in cursive
a wordsmith, whose now running out of time
when i put my pen to pad i feel I'm running outta lines
an i can't slow down, or take a second to rest
through every sentences that's kept there still expecting my best
....