Dr. Dooom's In The Room (instrumental)

Dr. Dooom's In The Room (instrumental) Lyrics

Song Dr. Dooom's In The Room (instrumental)
Artist Dr. Dooom
Artist Kool Keith
Artist KutMasta Kurt
Album First Come, First Served (Instrumentals)
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Yeah, for the mother****in 2000 in this mother
Straight from
Houston, Tex
The mother****in
Dr. Dooom
I'm shuttin rappers down like
Guiliani shut down strip clubs
Turnin your fake gangster hardcore stories into some
Mickey Mouse,
Teletubbies shit
Y'all niggaz need to quit, stop pullin your silicone tits
And this city is my town
Don't even ****in tryin to say a fly rhyme
I'm holdin posessions you don't own
And your cellular phone don't even ****in roam
Y'all got the nerve to be standin in the hot rap zone against somethin you can't afford
Rappers be soundin bored at the show
I need to start pullin your bitch-ass ****in extension cord
Suckers be fakers,
ATM pullin frauds
I'm sendin two men, out to boo men
Quick to get to y'all niggaz like
Western Union
I'm comin like the fax machine
I pour it on your whole team
Y'all niggaz ain't got time to scheme
I'm out to shatter your ****in rap dreams
Top to bottom, any angle, whatever your bullshit mind think
Your words gon' tangle
Sound like shit on a
Tascan mix
A bunch of y'all tracks need to be fixed
Professionally, you sound like the dog
Toto When
I see Flex,
I'ma ask him why he playin a lot of records from a bunch of homos with feminine vocals
I catch niggaz when clubs are packed, rubbin elbows
Tryin to whisper shit in ugly bitches earlobes
Dr. Dooom callin wack niggaz houses from the
Radisson hotel room
Penthouse suites, bitch niggaz get 911 beeps
I'm always hearin more softest
MC's talk shit about the streets
**** your seedy impression of pain
Ninety-nine percent of your shit was normal, one percent sound strange
A&R's be suckin a lot of dick and spreadin they ass cheeks to get the hits
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up ..
You couldn't rap with me if we was twins stuck together
You be the deformed one, catchin the warm one
I pay a crackhead five dollars to **** up your million dollar marketing plan with a brand new sub-machine gun and a hot dog, on a
Yankee Stadium bun
First class rates, hire
Wall Street messengers to move your antique rap styles in milk crates
Special delivery for all you mother****ers sportin hard boots with ashey faces tryin to get with me
Y'all suckers is amateurs, gettin ****ed up the assholes by the top worst managers
On the publishin deal, wipe my condoms off your
Ampex reels
No games to be played, you lookin ****in jiggy
MC's with collared shirts and shoes tryin to duplicate
Biggie No matter where, you only got one pair
Alligators don't match with them ****in flares
Who's doin your dress code, some old stank bitch with mascara touchin up your face on the road
You feelin healthier, your rap audience is only
New York to
Philadelphia
Baltimore never even heard your ****in metaphor
Shut the **** up, put your buck up, look at the dicks you suck up
Maximum ass thoughts, you ****in get crushed like the five o'clock train rush, sweaty as a mother****er
The best rapper can lick my ass
I make your girl pick me up lick my sperm in your
E-class Leave my diapers moist in the back seat of your
Rolls Royce
Stop your whole organization on
Park Avenue and start laughin at you
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
You ain't the top rap in the country
New jacks, you shoulda knew that
From experience, you couldn't write from the beginnin
Bookin studio time, with some scramblin concert shit on your mind
Who's crowd, the
Blues feel my news
Accurately in
New York City
There's a thousand mother****ers tryin to rap and look pretty
Save it for
David Take that mother****in rented ride back to
Avis When it come to rap
I'm the big mother****er on the paylist
Ridin the
Amtrak, lookin at
Billboard
You need to be hung on a steel cord
Sittin next to a
Doberman, shit in
Harlem Any poodles on the mic, we gon' stop em
I'm in the dressin room with the average bitch lookin like
Halle Berry, rubbin my nuts
My fingers all up in her guts
Watchin Monday
Night Football with my dick all up in her butt
MC's stand away when
I pull out my mitt put your hand away
Most of these fake hard rappers never seen the projects live in ****in
Pesquateway
Scared, palm that away
Why don't you bastards move back in the metro area
The Marriott is the spot where the prostitutes lick your
Rolex watch
Left you naked out with your stomach out
Hangin out with cocaine on the dresser
With a Puerto
Rican girl with
HIV from Parkchester
You sniffin that shit again
Souped up from the neck up from the buttcrack up
You need a ****in checkup
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room!
Walkin up the street, with bare feet, eatin raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom's In The Room (instrumental) Lyrics
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