Godmother - Ruff Ryder's Block Lyrics

She's been around the writer's block before
And she doesn't have a motive anymore
A career as a writer doesn't excite her
The pen is mighty but a pistol is mightier
So tonight she'll get inspired as bodies hit the floor
She pulls a stack of pages off the shelf
She'll plagiarize a play she wrote herself
She pops the glock and the punks all drop
The bullets punctuate full stop
Her authorship is lost and the story writes itself
They say, write what you know, well, now the inverse is true
This time she's the one whodunit but she doesn't have a clue
So she hides the bodies in the New York Times' best cellar
Cause that's what the crickets in her head all tell her
Her blood-stained clothes are filled with type-Os
She should've left it to the prose
She knows, it shows, she always was a lousy speller
They say, write what you know, well, now the inverse is true
This time she's the one whodunit but she doesn't have a clue
What to do when the third person turns into the first
Taking on the killer's role completely unrehearsed
Oh, murder, she wrote, she wrote a lot
She wrote herself into the plot
Getting chased, more cops on her case
Than Irv Gotti got
And the ink from her pen
Bleeds a tale as old as time
Her red hands tip her off to the gore
She's left behind
Oh, murder galore, such a shame
Because the media's to blame
But the judge he's read this book before
And the cover bears her name
No chance to redact it
Premeditated reenactment
Check the facts, work the conviction
The evidence is stacked
Well, she's been around the writer's block before
And she doesn't have a motive anymore
Her next sentence might be life or death
No repentance, only one hope left
That while she's locked up in a cell
Her sales will surely soar