Luyện nghe bài hát Freestyle (dissin' The Source)

I got a riddle,
What's and talks big,
midget arms and creamy white filling in the middle,
That'll do anything to throw on my name,
If it means walking the Mediterranean,
Is it an Albanian, Armenian, Iranian, Tasmanian,
No, his name's and oh,
Oh sorry, yo, so sorry,
But was a long time ago,
When I was Joe Schmo,
in Joe Blow's basement,
I for it before so,
accept it or you don't,
And let's on,
If I shown that I've grown you get the bone,*
Keep lickin these you industry mutts,
Keep walking around sniffing each butts,
Or I say asses,
What be the more politically correct term to use for the masses,
The I ask is how can I explain this,
How can I swing this in language,
If I switched to slang and man to mane,
Do I do it in vain or to entertain,
Am I being or am I being fake,
Am I just a or am I truly genuine,
Or am I caught up in hot water,
on my daughter,
I you That I love this culture,
Don't let 'em ya,
tell you once more again
This is the environment I was up in,
But now and then,
I use my pen to get rid of frustration,
Or I say "shun",
Is it just one of my subliminal ways of racism,*
Your face is numb, stunned,
Your look is cold like of a man of 70 some years old,*
And it gets colder,
is why I understand,
You can't be mad at a 44 year old fan with a on his shoulder,
Who only a half of a magazine,
And the way to have it seen is to put me on the front of it again,
Only thing makes him grin is to see me frown,*
Papa can't me,
needs to take his medication and sit the fuck down,
In his new that goes round and round,
That he bought the money in his bank account,
I get him every issue when the thing comes out,
Sit back and let his clown hair come out,
And let his black side arm wrestle his side,
Yell apartheid enough that he might slide,
He might find someone dumb who might ride,*
But ain't nobody over buying two white guys,
as pro-black,
There is no slack for a Harvard college grat in a hat,
And a hunchback standin by the coat rack,
In some old slacks and some RSO throwbacks,
in the place to bc,
And it takes what I got to the mike, right*
Still not gonna cater punks,
cock-suckin, pussy-lips, hated, dicks, cunts.*