The Documentary
Boy talks to lady to start the song] [Verse 1 - Game (DRE)] What happened in hip hop That got Pac and Big shot The thicks plots Now every rapper claim He let his clique pop But even myself tote a gun And know to run then get shot Ive been there before Now im f**kin with Doc (Gotta do them Calvin Broadus numbers) If not i push rocks Anticipatin my encarceration Media think im fakin like Mason But when it comes to mase f**k R. Kelly i dont take it in the face I find out who sprayed it I'm putting you under the pavement No buddhist, priest, catholic, or baptist pastor can save him Im far from religious But i got beliefs, so i put Cannary yellow diamonds In my jesus piece I came back from the dead Without a part of my chest Layed in a hospital bed on cardiac arrest I waited for 3 years While everybody else dropped Now i understand why NAS Did a song with his pops [CHORUS x2] Im ready to die Without a reasonable doubt Smoke chronic and hittin Doggy style before i go out Until they sign my death certificate All eyez on me Im still at it, illmatic And thats THE DOCUMENTARY [Verse 2] If i die my niggas, f**k it I did a song with Mary Blige, my niggas Got a hook from Faith No verse from Jay I guess on westside story He thought i spit in his face Told Ed Lover and Money Luv I was talkin to Ja With that mayback line It was payback time Keep f**kin with me nigga Ill put you under me Take your car and trade it in For eight 3 hundred C's If you cross my T I'll dot your I's You do life in a cementary Ill do mine with Shyne Come home sit in the thrown With my legs crossed And my air force Middle finger up f**k the world Cause im fellin like Puff When Life After Death hit Mo' money, mo' problems And i lost my best friend Im the second dopest nigga From compton u'll ever hear The first nigga only put out albums Every 7 years (haha) [Game (Commentator)] (You know what speakin of Jay That just makes me roll down Now your song westside story) Ohh Ohh (You got a line that says Dont wear throwbacks Or drive, ride in maybacks, Is that a shot at Jay?) Naa, i was talkin about Ja Rule Yeah, So, Yeah, i got a lot of Respect for Jay You know what im saying I never take shots at legends Thats just something i dont do [Verse 3 - Game (Busta)] Let me tell you why i do this shit Im a son of a gun Cause moms was a hoover crip First day i got signed I had to prove i spit Freestyle with Busta Rhymes (son, duke is sick) The prodigee' of Doc Dre. I could finally put the shoes on Now that the rumors of Rakim and Q gone They say truth hurts Sunk, like quick sand Dont stop me in traffic And ask about hitman I gotta restore the feelin It crawled from under the rock After the dog pound Crushed the buildings I got a family to feed Im the middle of 9 children We can talk about a loan After i sell 5 million If i tell you i aint Game And i dont know Dre. You gonn do me like X-Zibit And cut half of my face? I take all the credit For putting the west Back on the map If you aint feelin that Guess I'm Gorilla Black!!!
