This is a song about "Song writer"

Every now and then i get the so called "writer block"

I'm a fucking walking paradox, no i'm not

And even when it's dark out, the sun is shining somewhere

Dont mind dirting my hands as a writer, the pen is mighty i swear

And when the game tests you a true writer plays

Wale, real nigga, where the totem, blowin' bomb haze

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

You just a struggling writer that never sold

And i can see us after school, we'd bomb

Instead of singin' the same song

Can barely finish a song

Smoking 100 dollar worth of strong

I can freestyle any time and i'm a quick writer

Just be there to help me and support me that's what you're here for

Da inspiration to make dis song.

I'm too strong, eight arms sticking to a bomb