"Skinny Dipping"

"Skinny dipping in the beat,
My feet in the water,
I wanna swim to the deep,
Just so that I can see her again,
These thoughts flow seamlessly through my pen,
I’ve seen her before, but I don’t remember when.

She meanders through my mind,
At the strangest of times,
But when I look to find her,
She’s rarely there, she ain’t kind,
She don’t care, I still grind on this
Raw inspiration habit,
I toke the spliff of emotions and then pass it,
Spit words into this mic, yeah I practice.
No I ain’t the fastest, but fuck that Imma make this.

Because she may be here or maybe not,
But in any case my head just simply won’t stop,
Thinking and losing itself into hip hop.
I do blues and rock, and Megan Fox.
But I’m mainly here to rock your socks off.
However when I write I often get pissed off,

I don’t know what I’m talking about,
Maybe I’m just going crazy, acting like a lout?
Should I shut the fuck up and shut my mouth?
Or make it rain, like we be living in a drought?

Cause you see/

Inspiration can be a bitch sometimes,
She can leave you confused, in loss of the rhymes,
That you need to draw the line,
Between what’s real or not,
Yeah – The true essence of hip-hop.

But back to the page, you can’t seem to find meaning in your words,
All you can do is look out the window, listen to the birds,
Chirping their merry little songs,
Look back to your words verse and they’re all wrong.
Trying to stay strong, when faced with these boulders,
Think maybe these words won’t make no sense when I’m older,
But you need to spread the warmth; cause the world’s getting colder.
So grab your muse by the hand and attempt to record her.

Huh - Interactions in close quarters,
Solemn dreams of no borders.
Yeah I know I ain’t a baller,
But trust the girls I go for are usually the shot caller.

But you see,
It ain’t what it used to be,
Back in the day I could sit at my page and write forever and feel free,
Of any limitations, just open the door, straight down the hall, towards inspiration.
The raw collection of experience and information,
Burning the ashes of your errors, the cremation,
Who’s fire still burn and yearns for your attention,
Deep inside your soul, pushing your mind towards invention,
Creation of new and pure thoughts,
Escaping the webs of misconceptions in which you always get caught,
Let the battle be fought.
And as the curtains fall, ask for an encore."