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 up, punk, slack up.
Watch your posse, before they get smacked up.
One by one, two by two, by three, yo p...
[parrish: up, e.d.? ]
Pass the uzi, to up, any wack 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 buck whyle, and in fact, my style, and i'm-a catch a bullshit charge,
trial.
It's my thing to swing, your first to bring a duck mc that can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. my 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 like ya me!]
I'm mad...

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

My story I tell straight from the heart.
When suckers tried to crash my shit straight start.
A black kid destined for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or buddha cess.
Straight up work. no sleep and no shorts.
with the skills that pop duke taught.
To swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I ride the benz, you ride the dick, with punk friends,
Straight up pussy from city, my attitude's fucked up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, yeah my friends,
Who swim in my pool. when it's time, the benz,
Around town, windows down at the 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 just lampin' with my ek shades, truck-jewels, the man's paid.
But of course not, brother can't get his
for instance, when I cruise up the block
In my 560 lampin' on my metro phone, chrome kit beamin' all off dome.
But a sucka, yeah, you looked the other way
That's how I knew you're on my kid, but it's okay.
It's normal, relax, whole head's busted.
in the rap skit, ya couldn't be trusted.
'cause my pound from 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 that I be usin', in black,
It causes {mass
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 clint eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my gun, so son, ya better run,
'cause when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we none.
We wax like 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...
[can they do it again? ] you bet ass, black.
[see you in '91] until get the bozack... [i'm mad...]