The Documentary Lyrics

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!!!

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