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 jokin' so back up, punk, up.
Watch your weak posse, they get smacked up.
One by one, two by two, by three, yo p...
[parrish: up, e.d.? ]
Pass the uzi, to blow up, any wack mc that up,
There one, blast 'im now.
[e, up.]
make me wait-wait* because it might be too late, the punk might escape,
And buck whyle, and in fact, bite my style, and i'm-a catch a charge,
trial.
It's my thing to swing, your first mistake to a duck mc that can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm swift. my name is erick sermon
[yeah, and I'm smith]
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 like ya me!]
I'm mad...

(here's a little story, gots to tell) {scratching} (I'm mad!) 4x

My life story I tell from the heart.
When suckers tried to crash my shit from start.
A young black kid destined for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or cess.
up hard work. no sleep and no shorts.
Brainstormin' with the that pop duke taught.
To swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I the benz, you ride the dick, with your punk friends,
Straight up pussy from punk city, my attitude's up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, yeah my friends,
Who in my pool. when it's time, flex the benz,
Around town, windows at the south town, cool j tape or k-solo "spellbound"
With fly girlies dippin, brothers 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 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 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.
Caught in the rap skit, ya 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 style that I be usin', in fact 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, of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my flow gun, so son, ya 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 right hook, duck the death jack,
I wonder the e and the p's at...
[can do it again? ] you bet your ass, black.
[see you in until things get the bozack... [i'm mad...]