I'm Mad

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 ******** 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 **** straight from start.

A young black kid destined for success, no

Old Gold, no *******, 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 ****, with your punk friends, straight up ***** from

Punk City, my attitude's ****** 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 **** 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 **** 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