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 back up, punk, up.
Watch your weak posse, 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,
There one, blast 'im now.
[e, up.]
*don't make me wait-wait* because it be too late, the punk might escape,
And whyle, and in fact, bite 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.
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 who's
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 from the heart.
When tried to crash my shit straight from start.
A young black kid destined for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or cess.
Straight up hard work. no and no shorts.
Brainstormin' with the skills pop duke taught.
To swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I ride the benz, you ride the dick, with your friends,
Straight up from punk city, my attitude's fucked up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, my so-called friends,
Who swim in my pool. it's time, flex the benz,
Around town, windows at the south town, cool j tape or k-solo "spellbound"
With fly girlies dippin, grippin' and sippin'
Old gold, red bull, hands on my and
I'm lampin' with my ek shades, truck-jewels, obviously the man's paid.
But of not, brother can't get his props
Like for instance, when I cruise up the
In my 560 on my metro phone, chrome kit beamin' all off your dome.
But like a sucka, yeah, you the other way
how I knew you're 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 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 style I be usin', in fact black,
It causes confusion}
It's a fallout, 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 like clint eastwood, of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my flow gun, so son, ya run,
'cause it comes to hostage and prisoners, we take none.
We move wax like ...{scratch}
And when my jam hits the streets, the explode.
Watch the right hook, 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...]