Luyện nghe bài hát I'm Mad

Erick
It's the e, and I'm smokin'. wild tone loc, I'm roastin, bakin' mcs,
The e I'm not jokin' so back up, punk, up.
Watch your weak posse, before get smacked up.
One by one, two by two, by three, yo p...
what's up, e.d.? ]
Pass the uzi, to blow up, any wack mc show up,
goes one, blast 'im now.
[e, up.]
*don't make me wait-wait* because it might be too late, the punk escape,
And buck whyle, and in fact, bite my style, and i'm-a catch a charge,
trial.
It's my thing to swing, your first mistake to bring a duck mc that hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. my name is sermon
[yeah, and I'm smith]
I could act foolish, start blastin'. ha ha ha ha, now laughin'?
I'm-a let ya slide, but ya owe me, next you see me...
[...holler like ya me!]
I'm mad...

(here's a little story, gots to tell) {scratching} (I'm mad!) 4x

My life story I straight from the heart.
When suckers to crash my shit straight from start.
A young black kid for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or buddha cess.
Straight up work. no sleep and no shorts.
Brainstormin' with the skills that pop taught.
To swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I ride the benz, you ride the dick, your punk friends,
Straight up from punk city, my attitude's fucked up and real shitty.
the backstabbers, yeah my so-called friends,
Who in my pool. when it's time, flex the benz,
Around town, windows down at the south town, j tape or k-solo "spellbound"
With fly dippin, brothers grippin' and sippin'
Old gold, red bull, on my dick and
I'm just lampin' with my ek shades, truck-jewels, the man's paid.
But of course not, brother can't get his
Like for instance, when I up the block
In my 560 lampin' on my phone, chrome kit beamin' all off your dome.
But a sucka, yeah, you looked the other way
That's how I knew you're on my kid, but it's okay.
normal, relax, your whole head's busted.
Caught in the rap skit, ya be trusted.
'cause my sounds pound from here to okinowi...{kiss} and I'm ouuuutie!

Stay tuned to this episode, when I rock the house and the mic explodes.
This is not the style that I be usin', in fact black,
It causes {mass
a fallout, when sucker mcs and crowds call out my name,
Oh a shame I got {fame!}

I'm not a new jack, my are not wack, and in fact,
I'm like eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my gun, so son, ya better run,
'cause when it comes to and prisoners, we take none.
We move wax kilos ...{scratch}
And my jam hits the streets, the sounds explode.
Watch the right hook, duck the blow jack,
I where the e and the p's at...
they do it again? ] you bet your ass, black.
[see you in '91] things get the bozack... [i'm mad...]