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 up, punk, slack 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 wack mc that up,
There one, blast 'im now.
[e, up.]
*don't make me wait-wait* it might be too late, the punk 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 mc that can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. my name is sermon
[yeah, and I'm parrish
I act foolish, start blastin'. ha ha ha ha, now who's laughin'?
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 story I tell straight from the heart.
suckers tried to crash my shit straight from start.
A young black kid 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 ride the benz, you ride the dick, 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,
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, on my dick and
I'm lampin' with my ek shades, truck-jewels, obviously the man's paid.
But of course not, brother can't get his
Like for instance, I cruise up the block
In my 560 lampin' on my metro phone, chrome kit 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, whole head's busted.
Caught in the rap skit, ya be trusted.
my sounds pound from here to okinowi...{kiss} peace and I'm ouuuutie!

Stay tuned to this last episode, I rock the house and the mic explodes.
This is not the buckwild style that I be usin', in black,
It {mass 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, 'stead of bullets, I pack
In my gun, so son, ya better run,
when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we take none.
We move wax kilos ...{scratch}
And my jam hits the streets, the sounds explode.
the right hook, duck the death blow jack,
I wonder the e and the p's at...
[can do it again? ] you bet your ass, black.
[see you in '91] things get the bozack... [i'm mad...]