Luyện nghe bài hát No Chorus

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

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

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

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

I hope bitch is in the audience
Your wife too, that's your fanbase, plus 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 with a verbal
Rappers hard, nervous in the dressin' room with a security guard
standin' 'round with they fuckin' face frowned
Lookin' like Homey the Clown

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

it, criticize it, y'all 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 like Lowenbrau
When I escort you to your car, you breakout

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

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

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