paroles de chanson Writer's Block (Radio Edit) - Eminem , Royce da 5'9"
Yeah,
yeah
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)
Everybody
hands
up
(Hands
up)
Uh,
man,
I
dunno,
man
Every
time
I
go
to
think
of
something
played
out
to
say
You
already
said
it,
Royce
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
50
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
fuckin'
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,
motherfucker
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
and
just
say,
"Aye"
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'
Tryin'
to
put
her
mind
into
the
inside
of
my
zipper
I'm
a
serpent
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
be
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
tryin'
to
mail
'em
to
me,
tryin'
to
reach
my
phone
I
don't
know
which
one
is
harder
Tryin'
to
not
to
take
your
bitch
or
tryin'
to
get
rid
of
my
own
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
and
just
say,
"Aye"
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
bozak
We
need
to
start
bringin'
that
shit
back
(Mad
flavor)
Man,
fuck
it,
I'm
'bout
to
catch
some
wreck
(We
in
effect,
money,
hahaha)
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,
hahahah
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