Writer's Block
Royce Da 5 Lyrics
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I don't know what else to say
I can't, I can't think of nothin'
I'm stumped
Here we go (here we go)
On your feet (on your feet)
Stand up (stand up)
Uh, man, I dunno, man
Every time I go to think of something played out to say
You already said it
I ain't calling names 'cause all of y'all the same, plus
I'm the king, all my past pain all done changed up
All these plains, all these lames, since the Slaughter's came up
'Cause they know they hands tied, feet ball and chained up
Niggas be quick to call me the new Fifty Cent
Because of my relationship with Marshall
Used to make me a little partial, but here's the brain fuck
We the same 'cause
I'm probably about to fall out with a young buck
While I attempt to fuck the fucking game up
Bitch, splat, only thing I fear in here is chit-chat
You are hearing bars like your ear against a Kit Kat
Shady guys like the Navy, drive, wavy bye-bye
Maybe my Glock can turn your top to baby's Maybach
My shit is powerful, literally sick, trust me nigga
It's ugly to kill a thing if the bigger I get
The more disgusting and fuckin' disfigured it gets
Niggas expect me to go pop, oh, stop
Y'all about the champagne, I'm about the toast
I, only fuck with mailmen with heroin from Boca
Niggas that'll smoke you while you staring in your postbox
Only incense he enlightens when he's thinkin'
While that sinks in, I got a Brinks ink pen
I'm back, mothafucker
Notice the flyness on the cover of the XXL
I'm back from the dead like Tobey Maguire from the Brothers
How y'all realer? (How y'all realer?) If I said it, I did it
If I didn't, I seen it first-hand like a car dealer
Give up the throne, your lease up, I am the Mona Lisa
That decoded Da Vinci Code, you throwin' your piece up
Is a waste of fake like a phony B-cup
Nigga, the mistake was like my only teacher
Wait 'til they get a load of me 'cause
I've got Gucci's on my feet
Diamonds on my neck
Diamonds on my wrist
Bitches on my dick
But y'all already said that
Choppers in the trunk
Models in the front
Bottles in the club
But I don't give a fuck
But y'all already said that
'Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard
For me to come up with shit to say (ay)
I'm at a loss for words 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' out of cliches
I'm gettin' writer's block
Psyche
When I stand up in this booth, niggas notice it
Sittin' on the same boat that Noah built
Floatin' on the same water Moses split
Poetry in motion, but we sittin' on your grave site, overkill
Aren't you tired? Why are you so loud? Quiet
Real dudes move in silence like a mute drivin' a new hybrid
You dudes is too excited
You a dude that'd try to sue a dude that's suicidal
You will just be another victim
I am like a nickel of weed rolled in a doobie, I'm a little twisted
I roll like the end credits in movies, y'all just got scripted
Got y'all niggas' bitches bobbin' to this one when she witcha
When she wit' me, she bobbin', not vibin'
Tryna put her mind into the inside of my zipper
I'm a sperate with a purpose, havin' problems?
Not a problem I've encountered
I have found elephants, lions, clowns
Will jump through hoops like they workin' for the circus
At the fire round the circle's right in front of them, fire rounds
Pun intended, gun extended, what are you mark's askin'?
Car's Aston, started as a hard-top and I saw past it
Since I decided to start Class diss
All black, all glass, panoramic roof been gettin' marked absent
I authorize my own all-access
Your bitch a whore, I'm a catch, she ball-catchin'
Her jaw's been broadcasted all across the globe from the store to Japan
Her pussy need to blocked and reported as spam
Bong, Interscope up in this dope and I sell it
My voicemail is full, got bitches screamin' inside of envelopes
And they tryna mail 'em to me, tryna reach my phone
I don't know which one is harder
Tryna not to take your bitch or tryna get rid of my own
I got Gucci's on my feet
Diamonds on my neck
Diamonds on my wrist
Bitches on my dick
But y'all already said that
Choppers in the trunk
Models in the front
Bottles in the club
But I don't give a fuck
But y'all already said that
'Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard
For me to come up with shit to say (ay)
I'm at a loss for words 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' out of cliches
I'm gettin' writer's block
Psyche
Man, get the bozac
We need to start bringin' that shit back (mad flava)
Man, fuck it, I'm 'bout to catch some wreck (we in effect, money)
Mad props to Royce for keepin' it real
On the strength, no diggity
I'm 'bout to go pull some hoes, get my mack on
Haters get the gas face
In Royce da 5'9"'s song Writer’s Block, the rapper talks about struggling with his creativity and battling writer's block. He admits to feeling a lack of inspiration, and attributed it to the fact that everything he thinks of has already been said before. He claims to be the king, having changed and evolved from the pain of his past, and that all the other rappers are the same. Royce da 5'9" also mentions his relationship with Eminem (referred to as Marshall) and how it had previously made him partial. He further suggests that his lyrics are powerful and that his verses' ugliness is only an indication of how hard he is willing to push to make effective music.
The rapper boasts of his Gucci shoes, diamond-encrusted jewelry, and his female fans in the chorus. He also mentions his choppers, models, and expensive drinks, showing that he is living the high life. Royce da 5'9"'s lyrics, however, are not just about his luxuries. He talks about the many hoops people have to jump through just to get noticed in the music industry. He also criticizes some rappers who sue those they have pushed to the brink of suicide. The song speaks to the pressure and expectations that come with being a rapper and highlights how royalty comes with a price.
Line by Line Meaning
I don't know what else to say
I'm at a loss for words and I can't think of anything else to say.
I can't, I can't think of nothin'
I'm suffering from writer's block and my mind is blank.
I'm stumped
I'm unable to come up with any new ideas.
Every time I go to think of something played out to say, You already said it
I struggle to find new things to say because all the ideas have already been used by someone else.
I'm the king, all my past pain all done changed up
I'm the best at what I do, and I've overcome all of my past pain and struggles.
Cause they know they hands tied, feet ball and chained up
My competition is restricted and can't compete because they are tied down and unable to move.
My shit is powerful, literally sick, trust me nigga
My lyrics are impactful, making people feel sick but at the same time trust me because I'm speaking the truth.
Wait 'til they get a load of me 'cause
People will be amazed when they hear my music because of its quality and uniqueness.
I'm at a loss for words 'cause y'all already said it all
I'm unable to find new phrases because everything has already been said before.
I'm gettin' writer's block
I'm experiencing writer's block, making it hard to come up with new lyrics.
We need to start bringin' that shit back
We need to revive the old-school hip-hop style.
Mad props to Royce for keepin' it real
I respect Royce for remaining authentic and honest in his music.
Haters get the gas face!
I'm dismissing negative opinions and comments - haters are not welcome here.
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Marshall B. III Mathers, Nicholas M. Warwar, Raymond Diaz, Ryan D. Montgomery
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind