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 back up, punk, up.
Watch weak 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 wack mc that up,
There goes one, '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, my style, and i'm-a catch a bullshit charge,
trial.
It's my thing to swing, your mistake to bring 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, start blastin'. ha ha ha ha, now laughin'?
I'm-a let ya slide, but ya owe me, next you see me...
[...holler ya know me!]
I'm mad...

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

My story I tell straight from the heart.
When suckers to crash my shit 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' with the skills pop duke taught.
To swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I the benz, you ride the dick, with your punk friends,
Straight up pussy from punk city, my attitude's up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, my so-called friends,
Who swim in my pool. when time, flex the benz,
Around town, windows at the south town, cool 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' my ek shades, truck-jewels, obviously the man's paid.
But of course not, brother get his props
for instance, when I cruise up the block
In my 560 lampin' on my metro phone, chrome kit beamin' all off dome.
But a sucka, yeah, you looked the other way
That's how I knew on my dick kid, but it's okay.
It's normal, relax, your whole busted.
Caught in the rap skit, ya be trusted.
'cause my sounds from here to okinowi...{kiss} peace and I'm ouuuutie!

Stay to this last episode, when I rock the house and the mic explodes.
This is not the buckwild 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 clint eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my flow gun, so son, ya run,
'cause when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we none.
We move wax kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam hits the streets, the explode.
the right 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...]