Kool Keith

Kool Keith - No Chorus songtekst

Je score:

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
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: 2B1 Records

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 2007

Taal: Engels

Deel je mening

Dit formulier wordt beschermd door reCAPTCHA en de Google Privacy Policy en Servicevoorwaarden zijn daarbij van toepassing.

0 Reacties gevonden