Dr Dooom Kool Keith - No Chorus Lyrics

Yeah..
You motherf*ckers oughta let me go and finish this motherf*ckin album
Dr. Dooom..
Name of this track is called "I Don't Want the Motherf*ckin Chorus"
Whatever all the arrangements are we gon' go through
F*ck all the laws..

What the f*ck was in your mind when you rapped on that track?
Who possessed you to do that? Who programmed - that shit sound wack
Unplug your mic
You motherf*ckers rap under a bunch of f*ckin 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 want to be me
Why'all niggaz write like slouches puffin blunts on studio couches
What's up you f*ckin amateur?
Your engineer'll cue in your bullshit cadence
That shit sounds simple; look at this nigga rhymin to hisself
Wack as f*ck, smell like shit for one buck
Big crews don't want it -- why'all get it worse
Which one of why'all motherf*ckers 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 f*ckin face frowned
Lookin like f*ckin Homey the Clown
Put that Spring Water down man, you ain't sweatin
You motherf*ckers 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, why'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 Lowenbrau
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 f*ckin pink maggot; I'll take your mic, you can't have it
You niggaz be runnin around with ears open like f*ckin bunny rabbits

That's right, Dr. Dooom
All you motherf*ckers around the world sittin in studios with your boys
Hypin your shit up
Motherf*ckers don't want to tell you that your shit is wack
Because they all yes men
Sittin around, carryin your roadie cases
Bein your f*ckin cheerleaders
I'ma tell you straight, look in the f*ckin mirror, you wack
That shit don't sound right, your mixdown ain't right
Your vocals are too low.. your f*ckin cadence is off
Stage show's weak.. f*ck you!