Bitch I want my mutha fuckin' money back.
(You only gave me 5 dollars.)
I gave you 20 mutha fuckin dollars.
(No you didn't u only gave me 5 dollars.)
No i gave you 20 and I aint gonna sit here and argue wit your fatass face homegirl.
This is AMERICA!. You know whats the thing whit ya'll mutha fuckers?
(GO HOME!)
Well im, a, I I aint leaving no where until i get my mutha fuckin change, I'm gonna blow this mutha fucka up if I dont get my mutha fuckin change!
(E LO SHA A LA!!!)
E lo sha a la my ass i want my fuckin change.

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 cala-rodas numbers)
If not i push rocks
Anticipating 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 am lovin only 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 dot your eyes
You'd do life in a cementary
Ill do mine with shyne
Come home sit in the throne
With my legs crossed
And my air force
Middle finger up
Fuck the world
Cause im feelin like puff
When life after death hit
Mo' money, mo' problems
And i lost my best friend
Im the second dopest nigga
From compton you'll ever hear
The first nigga only put out albums
Every 7 years (haha)

(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?
(The Game)
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

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 dude is sick)
Told to Jay and Doc Dre.
I could finally put the shoes on
Now that the room was a rock cave
The q gone
They say truth hurts
Chunk, 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 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 Gorilla Black!!!

[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

(DOCUMENTARY)