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Correct The Documentary Lyrics
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The Game
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Correct The Documentary
Artist:
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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 blocks Now every rapper claim He let his clip pop But even myself told the gun To know to run then get shot I've been there before Now I'm fuckin with doc (Gotta do them Calvin Broadus numbers) If not I push rocks Anticipatin' my incarceration Media think I'm fakin' like mason But when it comes to mace Fuck are. Kelly I don't take it in the face I find out who sprayed it And I'm putting you under the pavement No buddhist priest, catholic, or baptist pastor can save him I'm 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 everyone else dropped Now I understand why nas Did a song with his pops [Chorus x2] I'm 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 I'm still at it, illmatic And that's 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 and Money Love I was talkin to Ja With that Maybach line It was payback time Keep fuckin with me nigga I'll put you under me Take your car and trade it in For eight 300Z's If you cross my T I dot your I's 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 up Fuck the world Cause I'm feelin' like puff When life after death hit Mo' money, mo' problems And I lost my best friend I'm the second dopest nigga From Compton you'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 Don't wear throwbacks Or drive, ride in maybachs, 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 I'm saying I never take shots at legends That's just something I don't do [Verse 3 - Game (Busta)] Let me tell you why I do this shit I'm a son of a gun Cause moms was a hoover crip First day I got signed I had to prove I spit Freestyled with Busta Rhymes (Son, dude is sick) Prodigy of Doc Dre. I could finally put the shoes on Now that the rumours of Rakim and Cube gone, They say truth hurts Chunk, like quick sand Don't 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 I'm the middle of 9 children We can talk about a loan After I sell 5 million If I tell you I ain't game And I don't know Dre. You gonn do me like Xzibit And cut half of my face? I take all the credit For putting the west Back on the map If you aint feelin that Go sign Guerilla Black!!! [Chorus x2] (Documentary)
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