I`m Mad lyrics
(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
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