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 fuckin 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

Fuck 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, 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

Told Ed Lover and Money Luv

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'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

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, 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!!!