Luyện nghe bài hát Documentary

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

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

I find out who sprayed it, I'm 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 Jesus

I came back from the dead a part of my chest
Layed in a bed on cardiac arrest
I waited for three while everybody else dropped
Now I why Nas did a song with 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, and that's the documentary

Ready to die a reasonable doubt
Smoke chronic and hit it doggy before I go out
they sign my death 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 Mary Blige
My niggas got a hook Faith, no verse from Jay
I guess on Side Story he thought I spit in his face

Told Ed Lover and Money Luv I was 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 I'll dot eyes
You do life in a cementary I'll do with Shyne
Come home sit in the thrown my legs crossed
And my air middle finger up, fuck the world

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

You what speakin' of Jay that just makes me roll down
Now your song west story, you got a line that says
"Don't wear or drive, ride 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 what I'm sayin'
I take shots at legends
just somethin' I don't do

Let me tell you why I do 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 with Busta Rhymes son, is sick

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

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

If I tell you I ain't Game and I know Dre
You gonna do me like and cut half 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 before I go out
Until they sign my certificate, all eyes on me
I'm at it, illmatic and that's the documentary

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