Luyện nghe bài hát No Chorus

Yeah, you oughta let me go
And this motherfuckin album, Dr. Dooom
Name of track is called 'I Don't Want the Motherfuckin Chorus'
Whatever all the arrangements are we go through
all the laws

What the fuck was in your when you rapped on that track?
Who possessed you to do that? Who programmed that sound wack
Unplug your mic, you motherfuckers rap under a bunch of hype
Programmed by the company, makin' cheap

Vocals sound like a nigga with no dough and a
asses out of yourselves, tryin' to rap solo
Suck my dick you see me, avoid because you wanna be me
Y'all niggaz write like slouches puffin' blunts on studio
What's up you fuckin'

Your cue in your bullshit cadence
That shit sounds simple, at this nigga rhymin' to hisself
as fuck, smell like shit for one buck
Big don't want it, y'all get it worse
Which one of y'all motherfuckers is for the mic first?

I hope your is in the audience
Your wife too, that's fanbase, plus your DJ's in the place
I'm to boo you, let it be fair, when you come off-stage
Ninety percent of the people that came on your guest
Ain't gon' be

A big disappointment when I rub your asshole a verbal ointment
Rappers actin' hard, nervous in the dressin' room a security guard
Groupies standin' 'round with they fuckin' face
Lookin' like Homey the Clown

Put that Spring Water man, you ain't sweatin'
You motherfuckers did a ten weak show and you jettin'
Your are mad, your performance was garbage bag
at these videotapes
Walkin' back and forth grabbin' your nuts the Planet of the Apes

Supervise it, criticize it, don't realize it, where the real guys at
Who's administrating your budget when you
high picture for Right On, with your ballroom light on
You know the night is kind of special like
When I escort you to your car, you bastards

the premises and reminisce on your rookie season
After you first started, you try to hard
And you paid no dues like Cold Crush and Afrika Bambaata
You wack nigga, tryin' to act in the video in Nevada
You fuckin' pink maggot, I'll your mic, you can't have it
You be runnin' around with ears open like fuckin' bunny rabbits

That's right, Dr. Dooom, all you motherfuckers around the
Sittin' in studios with boys, hypin' your shit up
don't wanna tell you that your shit is wack
Because all yes men

Sittin' around, carryin' your cases
Bein' fuckin' cheerleaders, I'ma tell you straight
in the fuckin' mirror, you wack, that shit don't sound right
Your ain't right, your vocals are too low
fuckin' cadence is off, stage show's weak, fuck you