Luyện nghe bài hát I'm Mad

Erick
It's the e, and I'm smokin'. wild tone loc, I'm roastin, bakin' mcs,
The e I'm not jokin' so back up, punk, up.
your weak posse, before they 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 show up,
goes one, blast 'im now.
[e, up.]
*don't make me wait-wait* because it might be too late, the 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 a duck mc that can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. my name is erick
[yeah, and I'm smith]
I could act foolish, start blastin'. ha ha ha ha, now 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 life story I tell straight 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.
Straight up 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 ride the dick, with punk friends,
Straight up from punk 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 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, obviously the 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 like a sucka, yeah, you the other way
That's how I knew you're on my dick kid, but okay.
It's normal, relax, your head's busted.
in the rap skit, ya couldn't be trusted.
'cause my sounds pound from to okinowi...{kiss} peace and I'm ouuuutie!

Stay tuned to this last episode, when I rock the and the mic explodes.
is not the buckwild style that I be usin', in fact black,
It causes confusion}
It's a fallout, when sucker mcs and crowds out my name,
Oh a shame 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,
'cause when it comes to and prisoners, we take none.
We wax like 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 they do it ] you bet your ass, black.
[see you in '91] until things get the bozack... mad...]