Luyện nghe bài hát Documentary

What in hip hop that got Pac and Big shot
The plots, now every rapper claim he let his clique pop
But even myself a gun and know to run then get shot
I've been before, now I'm fuckin' with Doc

do them Calvin Broadus numbers
If not I push rocks my incarceration
Media think I'm fakin' like Mason but when it to mase
off, Kelly, I don't take it in the face

I find out who sprayed it, I'm you under the pavement
No buddhist, priest, catholic, or baptist pastor can him
I'm far from but I got beliefs
So I put cannary yellow in my Jesus piece

I came back the dead without a part of my chest
Layed in a bed on cardiac arrest
I for three years while everybody else dropped
Now I understand why Nas did a with his pops

I'm ready to die a reasonable doubt
Smoke chronic and hit it doggy before I go out
Until they sign my certificate, all eyes on me
I'm still at it, and that's the documentary

Ready to die without a doubt
Smoke chronic and hit it doggy style I go out
Until they sign my death certificate, all on me
I'm at it, illmatic and that's the documentary, documentary

If I die my niggas, fuck it, I did a song Mary Blige
My niggas got a hook from Faith, no from Jay
I guess on West Side Story he thought I in his face

Ed Lover and Money Luv I was talkin' to Ja
With that mayback line it was payback
Keep fuckin' me nigga I'll put you under me
Take your car and it in for eight three hundred C's

If you cross my T I'll dot your
You do life in a cementary I'll do mine with
home sit in the thrown with my legs crossed
And my air force middle finger up, fuck the

'Cause I'm like Puff when 'Life After Death' hit
Mo' money, mo' problems and I lost my best
I'm the second dopest nigga Compton you'll ever hear
The first nigga only put out albums seven years

You know what speakin' of Jay that just makes me roll
Now song west side story, you got a line that says
"Don't wear throwbacks or drive, in maybacks"
Is that a shot at Jay? Naa, I was talkin' Ja Rule

Yeah, so, yeah, I got a lot of for Jay
You know what I'm
I never take shots at
That's just I don't do

Let me you why I do this shit
I'm a son of a gun, 'cause mom's was a crip
day I got signed I had to prove I spit
Freestyle with Busta Rhymes son, Duke is

The prodigee' of Doc Dre I could put the shoes on
Now that the rumors of Rakim and Q
say truth hurts sunk, like quick sand
Don't me in traffic and ask about Hitman

I gotta restore the it crawled from under the rock
the dog pound crushed the buildings
I got a to feed, I'm the middle of middle children
We can talk a loan after I sell five million

If I you I ain't Game and I don't know Dre
You gonna do me like X-Zibit and cut of my face?
I all the credit for puttin' the west back on the map
If you ain't feelin' guess I'm Gorilla Black

I'm ready to die without a doubt
Smoke and hit it doggy style before I go out
they sign my death certificate, all eyes on me
I'm still at it, illmatic and that's the

Ready to die without a doubt
Smoke chronic and hit it doggy style I go out
Until they sign my certificate, all eyes on me
I'm at it, illmatic and that's the documentary, documentary