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 so back 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.]
*don't make me wait-wait* because it might be too late, the might 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 first mistake to bring a duck mc can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. my name is sermon
[yeah, and I'm parrish
I could act foolish, start blastin'. ha ha ha ha, now who's
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, I've gots to tell) (I'm mad!) 4x

My life I tell straight from the heart.
When suckers tried to crash my straight from start.
A black kid destined for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or buddha cess.
up hard work. no sleep and no shorts.
Brainstormin' with the skills that pop taught.
To swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I the benz, you ride the dick, with your punk friends,
Straight up pussy 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, cool j tape or "spellbound"
With fly girlies dippin, grippin' and sippin'
Old gold, red bull, hands on my and
I'm just lampin' with my ek shades, truck-jewels, the man's paid.
But of course not, brother get his props
Like for instance, when I up the block
In my 560 on my metro phone, chrome kit beamin' all off your dome.
But like a sucka, yeah, you looked the way
That's how I knew on my dick kid, but it's okay.
It's normal, relax, your 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 to this last episode, when I rock the house and the mic explodes.
is not the buckwild style that I be usin', in fact black,
It causes {mass
a fallout, when sucker mcs and crowds call out my name,
Oh what a 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 gun, so son, ya better run,
'cause when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we none.
We wax like kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam hits the streets, the explode.
Watch the right hook, duck the blow jack,
I wonder the e and the p's at...
[can they do it again? ] you bet ass, black.
[see you in until things get the bozack... [i'm mad...]