Luyện nghe bài hát I'm Mad

Erick
It's the e, and I'm smokin'. like tone loc, I'm roastin, bakin' mcs,
The e I'm not jokin' so back up, punk, up.
Watch your weak posse, before 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 goes one, 'im now.
[e, up.]
make me wait-wait* because it might 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 erick
[yeah, and I'm smith]
I act foolish, start blastin'. ha ha ha ha, now who's laughin'?
I'm-a let ya slide, but ya owe me, time you see me...
[...holler ya know 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 tried 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 ride the benz, you the dick, with your punk friends,
Straight up pussy from punk city, my fucked up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, my so-called friends,
Who swim in my pool. when time, flex the benz,
town, windows down at the south town, cool j tape or k-solo "spellbound"
With fly dippin, brothers grippin' and sippin'
Old gold, red bull, on my dick and
I'm just lampin' with my ek shades, truck-jewels, the man's paid.
But of not, brother can't get his props
Like for instance, when I up the block
In my 560 lampin' on my metro phone, chrome kit all off your dome.
But a sucka, yeah, you looked the other way
how I knew you're on my dick kid, but it's okay.
It's normal, relax, whole 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 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, when sucker mcs and 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 gun, so son, ya better run,
'cause when it comes to 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...]