Luyện nghe bài hát Documentary

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

Gotta do Calvin Broadus numbers
If not I push anticipatin' my incarceration
Media think I'm like Mason but when it comes to mase
Fuck off, Kelly, I take it in the face

I find out who it, I'm puttin' 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 diamonds in my Jesus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The prodigee' of Doc Dre I could finally put the on
Now that the rumors of and Q gone
They say hurts sunk, like quick sand
stop me in traffic and ask about Hitman

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

If I tell you I ain't Game and I 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 that guess I'm Gorilla Black

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

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