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Yeah..
You motherfkers oughta let me go and finish this motherfkin album
Dr. Dooom..
Name of this track is called "I Don't Want the Motherfkin Chorus"
Whatever all the arrangements are we gon' go through
fk all the laws..
What the fk was in your mind when you rapped on that track?
Who posessed you to do that? Who programmed - that s**t sound wack
Unplug your mic
You motherfkers rap under a bunch of fkin hype
Programmed by the company, makin somethin cheap
Vocals sound like a nigg* with no dough and a promo;
makin out of yourselves, tryin to rap solo
Suck my d*ck when you see me; avoid because you wanna be me
Y'all write like slouches puffin blunts on studio couches
What's up you fkin amateur?
Your engineer'll cue in your bulls**t cadence
That s**t sounds simple; look at this nigg* rhymin to hisself
Wack as fk, smell like s**t for one buck
Big crews don't want it -- y'all get it worse
Which one of y'all motherfkers is waitin for the mic first?
I hope your b*tch 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 a**hole with a verbal ointment
Rappers actin hard, nervous in the dressin room
with a security guard
Groupies standin round with they fkin face frowned
Lookin like fkin Homey the Clown
Put that Spring Water down man, you ain't sweatin
You motherfkers 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 b*stards
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 nigg*, tryin to act large in the video in Nevada
You fkin pink maggot; I'll take your mic, you can't have it
You be runnin around with ears open like fkin bunny rabbits
That's right, Dr. Dooom
All you motherfkers around the world sittin in studios with your boys
Hypin your s**t up
Motherfkers don't wanna tell you that your s**t is wack
because they all yes men
Sittin around, carryin your roadie cases
Bein your fkin cheerleaders
I'ma tell you straight, look in the fkin mirror, you wack
That s**t don't sound right, your mixdown ain't right
Your vocals are too low.. your fkin cadence is off
Stage show's weak.. fk you!