Loose Cannon (Instrumental)
Quelle: Spotify
[Intro - The words of Marcus Tullius Cicero (TV show *Rome*)]
Please listen as if you were sober and intelligent, and not a drink-sodden, sex-addled wreck
[Verse 1]
I got medical surgeons testing my urine
Cuz my shock value got me pissing electrical currents and it's burning
My pen is working overtime, so you gon' rewind
'Til you finally know the rhyme, run home and quote the lines
'Bolic terrorize cyphers like Al-Qaeda
And fire rockets like I'm inside the cockpit of a stealth fighter (incoming!)
I compel writers to excel, despite the
Fact my deal at Viper was like a cell at Rikers
My mic line through Midian defies oblivion
Ahead of the time I'm living in like the Prime Meridian
So why sign and get me in a worthless game where
Abel's gonna murder Cain for his personal gain?
When I can brainstorm a hurricane of purple rain
'til it floods the earth's terrain and bursts in flames
The same person remains but my purpose changed
And it's worth the pain in hearing y'all curse my name
[Hook]
We let them hands go, we put our feet down
We give a damn? No. We give out beatdowns
So let your fam know, you wanna blam, go
'cuz we can land those--don't even stand close
I'm sitting on the edge, I'm lethal
I'm afraid I might flex on people
Might box, might put you in a box
If you want it we can make it pop quick like blaow!
[Verse 2]
I got half a million rappers catching feelings
(Why?) 'Cuz I'm mass appealing like the Sistine Chapel ceiling
And the whole time y'all pray Jesus comes
I was hearing demons speak in tongues saying "Rob the preacher's son"
Too much Puerto Rican rum keeps me tipsy
I'm trying to keep my equilibrium, like eating lithium
So, first take the final edit, I can inspire skeptics
To get the fuck up like Simon said it
I got a street sign accepted line of credit
With more props for spitting fire than pyrotechnics
And I don't gotta drive a '65 or Lexus
For my CD to drop on more blocks than when you die in Tetris
Just as I expected, I'll get my poetic justice
When the cats who run the game are leaving on a set of crutches
When they lay screaming in the general public
Cuz the metal rusted on their gun and backfired when it busted
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
I never claimed to be a gangsta, but I don't fire blanks
I'm just known for saying crazier shit than Tyra Banks
But celebrity stars leave us mentally scarred
So I came to save the game like a memory card
Cuz enemy squads just pretend to be hard
Like their mic booth's surrounded by penitentiary bars
And whenever they rhyme they get federally charged
They're the mafia, and thieves chill wherever they are
I don't believe them. It simply isn't feasible, the heat you pull
Can cease some wolf from turning you little sheep to wool
I'm a loose cannon with Duran's hands of stone
Ali's swagger, Foreman's right and the heart to stand alone
It's like cancer-prone DNA strands were cloned
And gene-spliced with victims at Ground Zero's landing zone
But I'm no hero, I'm a bastard like my parents boned
Had a one-night stand and pop's wouldn't answer the phone
I'll fight 'til I'm jamming bones with my knuckles breaking
So fuck your mother, I'll punch your mother's fucking face in
I'll punch your face in to make a muthafuckin statement
That I love the underground, I grew up in my mother's basement
[Hook]
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