| Song | No Chorus (instrumental) |
| Artist | Dr. Dooom |
| Artist | Kool Keith |
| Artist | KutMasta Kurt |
| Album | First Come, First Served (Instrumentals) |
| Yeah.. | |
| You mother****ers oughta let me go and finish this mother****in album | |
| Dr. dooom.. | |
| Name of this track is called "i don't want the mother****in chorus" | |
| Whatever all the arrangements are we gon' go through | |
| **** all the laws.. | |
| What the **** 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 mother****ers rap under a bunch of ****in 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 ****in amateur? | |
| Your engineer'll cue in your bullshit cadence | |
| That shit sounds simple; look at this nigga rhymin to hisself | |
| Wack as ****, smell like shit for one buck | |
| Big crews don't want it -- y'all get it worse | |
| Which one of y'all mother****ers 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 ****in face frowned | |
| Lookin like ****in homey the clown | |
| Put that spring water down man, you ain't sweatin | |
| You mother****ers 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 ****in pink maggot; i'll take your mic, you can't have it | |
| You niggaz be runnin around with ears open like ****in bunny rabbits | |
| That's right, dr. dooom | |
| All you mother****ers around the world sittin in studios with your boys | |
| Hypin your shit up | |
| Mother****ers don't wanna tell you that your shit is wack | |
| Because they all yes men | |
| Sittin around, carryin your roadie cases | |
| Bein your ****in cheerleaders | |
| I'ma tell you straight, look in the ****in mirror, you wack | |
| That shit don't sound right, your mixdown ain't right | |
| Your vocals are too low.. your ****in cadence is off | |
| Stage show's weak.. **** you! |
| Yeah.. | |
| You mother ers oughta let me go and finish this mother in album | |
| Dr. dooom.. | |
| Name of this track is called " i don' t want the mother in chorus" | |
| Whatever all the arrangements are we gon' go through | |
| all the laws.. | |
| What the 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 mother ers rap under a bunch of in 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 in amateur? | |
| Your engineer' ll cue in your bullshit cadence | |
| That shit sounds simple look at this nigga rhymin to hisself | |
| Wack as , smell like shit for one buck | |
| Big crews don' t want it y' all get it worse | |
| Which one of y' all mother ers 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 offstage | |
| 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 in face frowned | |
| Lookin like in homey the clown | |
| Put that spring water down man, you ain' t sweatin | |
| You mother ers 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 in pink maggot i' ll take your mic, you can' t have it | |
| You niggaz be runnin around with ears open like in bunny rabbits | |
| That' s right, dr. dooom | |
| All you mother ers around the world sittin in studios with your boys | |
| Hypin your shit up | |
| Mother ers don' t wanna tell you that your shit is wack | |
| Because they all yes men | |
| Sittin around, carryin your roadie cases | |
| Bein your in cheerleaders | |
| I' ma tell you straight, look in the in mirror, you wack | |
| That shit don' t sound right, your mixdown ain' t right | |
| Your vocals are too low.. your in cadence is off | |
| Stage show' s weak.. you! |