"I'm Mad" lyrics - EPMD
"Let's take it to the stage, sucker!"
[Erick Sermon] + (Parrish Smith)
It's the E and I'm smokin'; wild like Tone Loc
I'm roastin', bakin' MC's, 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... (what's up E.D.?)
Pass the uzis to blow up, any wack MC that show up
There goes one, blast him now (E hold up)
(Don't make me wait...)
Because it might be too late, the punk might escape
And buck wild, and in fact bite my style
And I'mma 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 hah, ha hah, now who's laughin'?
I'mma let ya slide but you owe me
Next time you see me (holla like ya know me)
I'm mad
[Hook 4x: DJ Scratch]
(*"Here's a little story I've gots to tell")
(*"I'm mad!"*)
[Parrish Smith]
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 Olde Gold, no cocaine, or buddha sess
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 as the sound pounds
Cool J tape or K-Solo's "Spellbound"
With fly girlies tippin', brothers grippin' and sippin'
Olde 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
And like a sucker, yeah you looked the other way
That's when I know you're on my dick kid; but it's okay
It's normal - relax, your whole head's busted
Caught in the rap skit, and couldn't be trusted
'Cause my sounds pound from here to Okinaw-yy
(*kiss*) Peace and I'm Auuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuudi
[Hook]
[Erick Sermon]
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 MC's and crowds call out
My name, oh what a shame I got "FAME!"
[Parrish Smith] + (Erick Sermon)
I'm not a new jack, my rhymes are not whack, and in fact
I'm like Clint Eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my flow gun, so son you better run
'Cause when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we take none
We move wax like kilos (*DJ Scratch break*)
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 ninety-one) Until then, get the bozack!
(I'm mad)
[Hook]
- DJ Scratch ad libs to end
