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 know to run get shot
I've been before, now I'm fuckin' with Doc

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

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

I'm ready to die without a doubt
chronic and hit it doggy 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 and hit it doggy style before I go out
they sign my death certificate, all eyes 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 Mary
My got a hook from 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
Keep with me nigga I'll put you under me
Take your car and trade it in for eight hundred C's

If you cross my T I'll dot your
You do life in a I'll do mine with Shyne
Come home sit in the with 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 friend
I'm the second dopest nigga from you'll ever hear
The first only put out albums every seven years

You know what of Jay that just makes me roll down
Now your west side story, you got a line that says
"Don't throwbacks 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 know I'm sayin'
I never take shots at
That's just somethin' I do

Let me you why I do this shit
I'm a son of a gun, 'cause mom's was a crip
day I got signed I had to prove I spit
Freestyle with Busta Rhymes son, Duke is

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

I gotta the feelin' it crawled from under the rock
the dog pound crushed 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 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 without a 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

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, and that's the documentary, documentary