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[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 blocks
Now every rapper claim
He let his clique pop
But even myself tote a gun
To know the run then get shot
Ive been there before
Now im fuckin with doc
(Gotta do the Calvin Broadus numbers)
If not i push rocks
Intisipatin my encarceration
Media think im fakin like mason
But when it comes to mase
Fuck r kelly i dont take it in the face
I find out who sprayed it
And im putting you under the pavement
No buddhist priest, catholic, or babtist pastor can save him
Im far from religious
But i got beliefs, so i put
Cannary yellow diamonds
On my jesus peace
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 everyone else dropped
Now i understand why NAS
Did a song with his pop
[Chorus x2]
Im ready to die
Without a reasonable doubt
Smoke chronic and hit it
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, fuck 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
I told Ed Lover and Moni Love
I was talkin to Ja
With that mayback line
It was payback time
Keep fuckin 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 dodt your eyes
You'd do life in a cementary
I'll do mine with shyne
Come home sit in the thrown
With my legs crossed
And my air force
Middle finger rough
Fuck 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 duck is sick)
Told to Jay and Doc Dre.
The Game
The documentary
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 blocks
Now every rapper claim
He let his clique pop
But even myself tote a gun
To know the run then get shot
Ive been there before
Now im fuckin with doc
(Gotta do the Calvin Broadus numbers)
If not i push rocks
Intisipatin my encarceration
Media think im fakin like mason
But when it comes to mase
Fuck r kelly i dont take it in the face
I find out who sprayed it
And im putting you under the pavement
No buddhist priest, catholic, or babtist pastor can save him
Im far from religious
But i got beliefs, so i put
Cannary yellow diamonds
On my jesus peace
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 everyone else dropped
Now i understand why NAS
Did a song with his pop
[Chorus x2]
Im ready to die
Without a reasonable doubt
Smoke chronic and hit it
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, fuck 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
I told Ed Lover and Moni Love
I was talkin to Ja
With that mayback line
It was payback time
Keep fuckin 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 dodt your eyes
You'd do life in a cementary
I'll do mine with shyne
Come home sit in the thrown
With my legs crossed
And my air force
Middle finger rough
Fuck 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 duck is sick)
Told to Jay and Doc Dre.
