Tonart: G minor•
Verse 1
Eb
Bb
Gm
Bb
Yeah..
F#
You motherfuckers oughta let me go and finish
Gm
D
Gm
D
this motherfuckin album
D
Name of this track is called "I Don't Want
Bb
the Motherfuckin Chorus"
F#
Whatever all the arrangements are
E
D
Gm
we gon' go through
Fuck all the laws..
D
Verse 2
Bb
What the fuck was in your mind when you
F#
rapped on that track?
Who possessed you to do that? Who pro
E
grammed - that shit sound wack
D
You motherfuckers rap under
Gm
a bunch of fuckin hype
Programmed by the company,
Vocals sound like a nigga with no
F#
makin asses out of yourselves,
tryin to rap solo
E
Suck my dick when you see me; avoid because
Gm
why'all niggaz write like slouches puffin
blunts on studio couches
What's up you fuckin amateur?
D
Your engineer'll cue in
your bullshit cadence
Bb
That shit sounds simple; look
D
F#
at this nigga rhymin to hisself
E
Wack as fuck, smell like shit for one buck
Big crews don't want it
D
- - why'all get it worse
Gm
Which one of why'all motherfuckers
is waitin for the mic first?
D
I hope your bitch is in the audience
Your wife too,
Bb
that's your fanbase - - plus your DJ's in the place
F#
I'm about to boo you,
E
let it be fair; when you come off- stage
D
E
D
ninety percent of the people that
Gm
D
came on your guest list
A big dissapointment when I rub your
D
asshole with a verbal ointment
Rappers actin hard,
Bb
nervous in the dressin room
with a security guard
F#
Groupies standin round with
they fuckin face frowned
E
Lookin like fuckin Homey the Clown
D
Put that Spring Wa ter down man,
You motherfuckers did a ten minute
D
weak show and you jettin;
your fans are mad - your
Bb
performance was garbage bag
Look at these videotapes
F#
Walkin back and forth grabbin your nuts
E
like the Planet of the Apes
D
Supervise it, criticize it,
Gm
D
why'all don't realize it
Gm
where the real guys at
Who's administrating your budget
when you takin
D
that high picture for Right On
with your ballroom light on
Bb
You know the night is kind
F#
of special like Lowenbrau
when I escort you to your car,
D
Gm
Leave the premises and reminisce on your
D
Gm
rookie season after you first started
D
You try to work hard and you never paid no dues
Bb
like Cold Crush and Afrika Bambaata
You wack nigga,
F#
tryin to act large in the video in Nevada
E
You fuckin pink maggot; I'll take your mic,
D
Gm
You niggaz be runnin around with ears
D
open like fuckin bunny rabbits
Verse 3
D
Bb
F#
Bb
F#
That's right, Dr. Dooom
All you motherfuckers around the world
D
Gm
sittin in studios with your boys
F#
Gm
Hypin your shit up
D
Motherfuckers don't want to tell
you that your shit is wack
Bb
because they all yes men
F#
E
Sittin around, carryin your roadie cases
E
Gm
Bein your fuckin
cheerleaders
I'ma tell you straight,
D
look in the fuckin mirror, you wack
Bb
F#
Bb
That shit don't sound right,
F#
your mixdown ain't right
Your vocals are too low.. your
fuckin cadence is off
Gm
Stage show's weak.. fuck you!
D
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