Luyện nghe bài hát Documentary

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

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

I out who sprayed it, I'm puttin' you under the pavement
No buddhist, priest, catholic, or pastor can save him
I'm far religious but I got beliefs
So I put cannary yellow diamonds in my piece

I came back from the dead a part of my chest
Layed in a hospital bed on arrest
I waited for three while everybody else dropped
Now I understand why Nas did a with his pops

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

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

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

Told Ed Lover and Luv I was talkin' to Ja
With that mayback line it was payback
fuckin' with 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 dot your eyes
You do life in a I'll do mine with Shyne
Come home sit in the with my legs crossed
And my air middle finger up, fuck the world

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

You know what speakin' of Jay that makes me roll down
Now your song west side story, you got a that says
"Don't wear 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 know what I'm
I take shots at legends
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 hoover
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 truth sunk, like quick sand
Don't stop me in traffic and ask Hitman

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

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

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

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