The Game - The Documentary Lyrics

[Intro: Livin' tha Life (2003)]
Bitch, I want my mother fuckin' money back
You only gave me five dollars!
I gave you twenty mother fuckin' dollars!
No, you didn't! You only gave me five dollars!
No, I gave you twenty and I ain't gon' sit here and argue with your flat-ass face, home girl
This is America!
You know, that's the thing about you mother fuckers
Go home!
I ain't goin' no where 'til I get my mother fuckin' change
I will blow this mother fucker up if I don't get my mother fuckin' change
*Speaking Japanese*
*Mocking Japanese*
I want my mother fuckin' change!

[Verse 1]
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 tote a gun, and know to run than get shot
I've been there before now I'm fuckin' with Doc
(Dr. Dre: Gotta do them Calvin Broadus numbers)
If not, I pitch rocks, anticipatin' my incarceration
Media think I'm fakin' like Mason, but when it comes to mace
Fuck R. Kelly, I don't take it in the face
I find out who sprayed it, and I'm puttin' 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 canary yellow diamonds in my Jesus piece
I came back from the dead without a part of my chest
Laid 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]
I'm Ready To Die without a Reasonable Doubt
Smoke Chronic and hit it Doggystyle 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
Ready To Die without a Reasonable Doubt
Smoke Chronic and hit it Doggystyle 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
Told Ed Lover & Moni 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 3 hundred C's
If you cross my T, I'll dot your eyes
You'll do life in a cemetery, I'll do mine with Shyne
Come home sit in the throne with my legs crossed
And my Air Forces, 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

[Interlude: Radio Interview]
(You know what speaking of Jay
That just makes me roll down
Now your song Westside Story)
Uh Oh
(You got a line that says
"I don't do button up shirts
Or drive Maybachs"
Is that a shot at Jay?)
Nah, I was talkin' about Ja Rule
Yeah, so, I mean, I just-I-I got a lot of respect for Jay
You know what I'm sayin'?
I never take shots at legends
I just-that's just somethin' I don't do

[Verse 3]
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
Freestyle with Busta Rhymes (Busta: son, duke is sick)
The protégé of Doc Dre, I could finally put the shoes on
Now that the rumors of Rakim and Cube gone
They say truth hurts, sunk like quicksand
Don't stop me in traffic and ask about Hittman
I gotta restore the feelin' that crawled from under the rock
After Tha Dogg 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 goin' do me like Xzibit and cut half my face?
I take all the credit for puttin' the West back on the map
If you ain't feelin' that, guess I'm Guerrilla Black

[Chorus]
I'm Ready To Die without a Reasonable Doubt
Smoke Chronic and hit it Doggystyle 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
Ready To Die without a Reasonable Doubt
Smoke Chronic and hit it Doggystyle 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 (The Documentary)