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, before they get 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 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 buck whyle, and in fact, bite my style, and i'm-a a bullshit 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 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 to tell) {scratching} (I'm mad!) 4x

My life story I straight from the heart.
When suckers tried to crash my shit straight start.
A young kid destined for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or buddha cess.
Straight up hard work. no 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,
up pussy from punk city, my attitude's fucked up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, yeah my 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 girlies dippin, brothers grippin' and
Old gold, red bull, on my dick and
I'm just with my ek shades, truck-jewels, obviously the man's paid.
But of not, brother can't get his props
Like for instance, I cruise 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
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 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 confusion}
It's a fallout, when 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 flow gun, so son, ya run,
when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we take none.
We move wax kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam hits the streets, the explode.
the right hook, duck the death blow jack,
I where the e and the p's at...
they do it again? ] you bet your ass, black.
[see you in '91] until things get the bozack... mad...]