|
Dr. Dooom - No Chorus lyrics
Yeah.. You motherfuckers oughta let me go and finish this motherfuckin album Dr. dooom.. Name of this track is called "i don't want the motherfuckin chorus" Whatever all the arrangements are we gon' go through Fuck all the laws.. What the fuck was in your mind when you rapped on that track? Who posessed you to do that? who programmed - that shit sound wack Unplug your mic You motherfuckers rap under a bunch of fuckin hype Programmed by the company, makin somethin cheap Vocals sound like a nigga with no dough and a promo; Makin asses out of yourselves, tryin to rap solo Suck my dick when you see me; avoid because you wanna be me Y'all niggaz write like slouches puffin blunts on studio couches What's up you fuckin amateur? Your engineer'll cue in your bullshit cadence That shit sounds simple; look at this nigga rhymin to hisself Wack as fuck, smell like shit for one buck Big crews don't want it -- y'all get it worse Which one of y'all motherfuckers is waitin for the mic first? I hope your bitch is in the audience Your wife too, that's your fanbase -- plus your dj's in the place I'm about to boo you, let it be fair; when you come off-stage Ninety percent of the people that came on your guest list Ain't gon' be there A big dissapointment when i rub your asshole with a verbal ointment Rappers actin hard, nervous in the dressin room With a security guard Groupies standin round with they fuckin face frowned Lookin like fuckin homey the clown Put that spring water down man, you ain't sweatin You motherfuckers did a ten minute weak show and you jettin; Your fans are mad - your performance was garbage bag Look at these videotapes Walkin back and forth grabbin your nuts like the planet of the apes Supervise it, criticize it, y'all don't realize it Where the real guys at Who's administrating your budget when you takin That high picture for right on with your ballroom light on You know the night is kind of special like lauryn bro When i escort you to your car, you breakout bastards Leave the premises and reminisce on your rookie season After you first started You try to work hard and you never paid no dues Like cold crush and afrika bambaata You wack nigga, tryin to act large in the video in nevada You fuckin pink maggot; i'll take your mic, you can't have it You niggaz be runnin around with ears open like fuckin bunny rabbits That's right, dr. dooom All you motherfuckers around the world sittin in studios with your boys Hypin your shit up Motherfuckers don't wanna tell you that your shit is wack Because they all yes men Sittin around, carryin your roadie cases Bein your fuckin cheerleaders I'ma tell you straight, look in the fuckin mirror, you wack That shit don't sound right, your mixdown ain't right Your vocals are too low.. your fuckin cadence is off Stage show's weak.. fuck you! |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 All the Way by Calloway |
 The Dangermen Sessions, Vol. 1 by Madness |
 Payback by Brownside |
 Afrodisiac by Brandy |
 Zeitgeist by The Smashing Pumpkins |
