Luyện nghe bài hát Documentary

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

Gotta do them Calvin numbers
If not I push rocks 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 sprayed it, I'm puttin' you under the
No buddhist, priest, catholic, or baptist can save him
I'm far religious but I got beliefs
So I put cannary yellow diamonds in my Jesus

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

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

Ready to die without a reasonable
Smoke chronic and hit it doggy before I go out
Until they sign my death certificate, all on me
I'm still at it, and that's 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 Story he thought I spit in his face

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

If you cross my T I'll dot your
You do life in a cementary I'll do with Shyne
Come home sit in the thrown my legs crossed
And my air force middle 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 you'll hear
The first nigga only put out albums seven years

You what speakin' of Jay that just makes me roll down
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 about Ja Rule

Yeah, so, yeah, I got a lot of for Jay
You know what I'm
I never take at legends
just somethin' I don't do

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

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

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

If I tell you I ain't and I don't know Dre
You gonna do me 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 Gorilla

I'm ready to die without a reasonable
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 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 that's the documentary,