Luyện nghe bài hát Documentary

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

Gotta do them Broadus numbers
If not I push rocks anticipatin' my
Media think I'm fakin' like but when it comes to mase
Fuck off, Kelly, I don't 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 religious but I got beliefs
So I put cannary yellow in my Jesus piece

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

I'm ready to die without a reasonable
Smoke 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

to die without a reasonable doubt
Smoke 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 that's the 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 on West Side Story he thought I spit in his face

Told Ed and Money Luv I was talkin' to Ja
that mayback line it was payback time
Keep fuckin' with me nigga I'll put you me
Take your car and trade it in for three hundred C's

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

'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 ever hear
The first nigga only put out albums every seven

You know what speakin' of Jay that just makes me roll
Now your song side 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' Ja Rule

Yeah, so, yeah, I got a lot of for Jay
You what I'm sayin'
I never take at legends
just somethin' 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 Rhymes son, Duke is sick

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

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

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

I'm 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, and that's the documentary

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