[Hook]

Yo, I wrote a pointless song, it's all gone wrong

I'm running out of lyrics, yo, I ain't got long

My brain's gone empty and I'm all dried up

I can't rhyme nothing, please wake me up

A pointless song, it's all gone wrong

Yo, I'm running out of lyrics and I ain't got long

I can't do shit and I feel quite rank

My mind's gone blank, was it something I drank?

[Verse 1]

As my eyelids flicker and my bottom lip dribbles

In the middle of this darkness, my book went scribbles

The riddles of this lyricist, think-tank, pessimist

Word specialist but now I don't give a shit

Tired of these egos bluffing, fed up with the girls I was stuffing

And nothing is the point of this verse that I'm huffing

I'm puffing on my cigar

Chatting shit now, but I once was on a par with the rest

And the best of the best, yo, it's not that I'm blessed

But today I got a harsh request

I was asked by a man possessed by the drum

And the hum of the bassline makes me for fun

"Example, I've booked us some studio time

You've got just a few hours to come up with a rhyme"

A whole fucking song with no inspiration

Complication is an understatement, mate

[Hook]

[Verse 2]

I used to have a talent for this rapping

And something could've happened, but now it's just the family clapping

And my friends don't give a shit, not even a little bit

Don't listen when I spit, it's time to quit

And it's not to impress or confess to you

As I speak, I attempt to depress you, fool

Bring stress to your ears as I stretch the rules

React how you want, I can take the balls

This song in particular ain't going very far

Entertain ya? Nah, fuck being popular

Riddims may as well go "blah, blah, blah"

I can't be creative, yo, and still be a recognised star

Never thought it would come to this

I'm on the textual equivalent of slitting my wrist

In the order of life, I'm at the bottom of the list

And my ink's running out now, I won't be missed

[Hook]

[Verse 3]

I admit, I wrote a pointless chat for a pointless track

Though whatever I spit, you punks already spat

You got a point to prove? Well let me point to you

And you can take my place and share your point of view

Yo, whatever you've got, I once had

I used to be good, I'm now bad, a pointless person

Yo, it's so, so sad, see all my best rhymes ended up on your pad

I'm not Jack the Lad

And I'm glad, I can't be fucked to write music

In my world, I was given talent to lose it

Poetical justice, you should never abuse it

And never confuse it, or you're missing the point

I approach every joint with a fresh outlook

But on this pointless song, it was the piss I took

Look, if I'm saying nothing, take my CD back

I'm sorry, I'll be creative on the follow-up track