Luyện nghe bài hát I'm Mad

Erick
It's the e, and I'm smokin'. wild like tone loc, I'm roastin, mcs,
The e I'm not jokin' so up, punk, slack up.
Watch your weak posse, before get smacked up.
One by one, two by two, by three, yo p...
[parrish: up, e.d.? ]
Pass the uzi, to blow up, any wack mc that up,
There one, blast 'im now.
[e, up.]
*don't me wait-wait* because it might be too late, the punk might 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 a duck mc that can't hang.
forget, I'm crazy swift. my name is erick sermon
[yeah, and I'm parrish
I could act foolish, blastin'. ha ha ha ha, now who's laughin'?
let ya slide, but ya owe me, next time you see me...
[...holler ya know me!]
I'm mad...

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

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

Stay tuned to this last episode, I rock the house and the mic explodes.
This is not the buckwild style that I be usin', in black,
It causes {mass
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 eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my gun, so son, ya better run,
'cause when it to hostage and prisoners, we take none.
We move wax kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam hits the streets, the explode.
Watch the hook, duck the death blow jack,
I wonder 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...]