I`m Mad lyrics

Artist  : Epmd 
Song : I`m Mad



 Send "I`m Mad" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

(Let's take it to the stage sucka)
Erick
Sermon:
It's the E and I'm smokin'. Wild like
Tone Loc I'm roastin bakin'
MCs
the E I'm
not jokin' so back up punk slack up.
Watch
your weak posse before they get smacked
up.
One by ONE two by TWO three by THREE Yo
P...
[Parrish: What's Up E.D.?]
Pass the
Uzi to blow up any wack MC that show up
there
goes one blast 'im now.
[E hold up.]
*Don't
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
bullshit
charge,
plus trial.
It's my
thing to swing, your first mistake to bring a
duck MC that
can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm
crazy swift. My name is Erick Sermon
[yeah,
and I'm Parrish Smith]
I could act foolish,
start blastin'. Ha ha ha ha, now who's
laughin'?
I'm-a let ya slide, but ya owe me,
next time you see me...
[...holler like ya
know me!]
I'm mad...
Refrain:
(Here's a
little story, I've gots to tell) {scratching}
(I'm mad!) 4x
Parrish:
My life story I tell
straight from the heart.
When suckers tried to
crash my shit straight from start.
A young
black kid destined for success, no Old Gold, no
cocaine, or
buddha cess.
Straight up hard
work. No sleep and no shorts.
Brainstormin'
with the skills that Pop Duke taught.
To keep
swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I ride
the Benz, you ride the dick, with your punk
friends,
straight up pussy from Punk City, my
attitude's fucked up and real
shitty.
From
the backstabbers, yeah my so-called
friends,
who swim in my pool. When it's time,
flex the Benz,
around town, windows down at
the South Town, Cool J tape or
K-Solo
"Spellbound"
With fly girlies
dippin, brothers grippin' and sippin'
Old
Gold, Red Bull, hands on my dick and
I'm just
lampin' with my EK shades, truck-jewels,
obviously the man's
paid.
But of course
not, brother can't get his props
like for
instance, when I cruise up the block
in my 560
lampin' on my Metro phone, chrome kit beamin' all
off your
dome.
But like a sucka, yeah, you
looked the other way
That's how I knew you're
on my dick kid, but it's okay.
It's normal,
relax, your whole head's busted.
Caught in the
rap skit, ya couldn't be trusted.
Cuz my sounds
pound from here to Okinowi...{kiss} peace and
I'm
ouuuutie!
Refrain
Erick:
Stay
tuned to this last episode, when I rock the house
and the mic
explodes.
This is not the
buckwild style that I be usin', in fact
black,
it causes {mass confusion}
It's a
fallout, when sucker MCs and crowds call out my
name,
oh what a shame I got
{fame!}
Parrish:
I'm not a new jack, my
rhymes are not wack, and in fact,
I'm like
Clint Eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I
pack
in my flow gun, so son, ya better
run,
cuz when it comes to hostage and
prisoners, we take none.
We move wax like
kilos ...{scratch}
and when my jam hits the
streets, the sounds explode.
Watch the right
hook, duck the death blow jack,
I wonder where
the E and the P's at...
[Can they do it again?]
You bet your ass, black.
[See you in '91] Until
things get the bozack... [I'm mad...]
Refrain