Luyện nghe bài hát Documentary

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

Gotta do them Broadus numbers
If not I rocks anticipatin' my incarceration
Media I'm fakin' like Mason 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 baptist pastor can him
I'm far religious but I got beliefs
So I put yellow diamonds in my Jesus piece

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

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

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

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

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

If you cross my T I'll dot eyes
You do life in a cementary I'll do 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 Puff when 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 every 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' about Ja

Yeah, so, yeah, I got a lot of for Jay
You know I'm sayin'
I take 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
First day I got I had to prove I spit
Freestyle with Busta son, Duke is sick

The of Doc Dre I could finally put the shoes on
Now the rumors of Rakim and Q gone
They say truth hurts sunk, like sand
Don't stop me in traffic and ask about

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

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

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

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 at it, illmatic and that's the documentary, documentary