Luyện nghe bài hát I'm Mad

Erick
It's the e, and I'm smokin'. wild like loc, I'm roastin, bakin' mcs,
The e I'm not jokin' so up, punk, slack up.
Watch your posse, before they 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 mc that show up,
goes one, blast 'im now.
[e, up.]
make me wait-wait* because it might be too late, the punk might escape,
And buck whyle, and in fact, bite my style, and catch a bullshit charge,
trial.
It's my thing to swing, your first mistake to bring a mc that can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm swift. my name is erick 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, time you see me...
[...holler like ya me!]
I'm mad...

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

My life story I straight from the heart.
When suckers tried to crash my shit from start.
A young kid destined for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or buddha cess.
Straight up hard work. no and no shorts.
with the skills that pop duke taught.
To swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I ride the benz, you the dick, with your punk friends,
Straight up from punk city, my attitude's fucked up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, 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, hands on my and
I'm just lampin' with my ek shades, truck-jewels, obviously the paid.
But of course not, brother get his props
Like for instance, I cruise up the block
In my 560 lampin' on my metro phone, chrome kit all off your dome.
But like a sucka, yeah, you looked the way
That's how I knew you're on my kid, but it's okay.
It's normal, relax, your head's busted.
in the rap skit, ya couldn't be trusted.
'cause my sounds pound here to okinowi...{kiss} peace and I'm ouuuutie!

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

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