* from a sketch about hearing the "new Tupac song" at a club
Listen close, as life turns its pages
Makaveli here, kickin' rhymes for the ages
Seen things in stages, wise words spoken by sages
From SkyTel to BlackBerry pages
Your crew don't phase us, we'll make you bustas pay us
Run up in your spot like CJ from San Andreas
I wrote this song a long time ago
A real long time ago
Feel me!
I wrote this song a long time ago
It was the dopest song I ever wrote... in '94
What can a {nigga} do when half the people voted for George W.
It's a bitch, {fuck} George W. -- can't be true --
I wanna choke him, because he's a snitch
I'm talking about George W. Smith
From city council, he ran in '93
Out in Oakland, you probably didn't hear about him
I wrote this song a long time ago
A real long time ago
Way before Slim Shady was in demand
Way before we dropped baloney on Afghanistan
I wrote this song in '94
How am I doin' this?
Look around the club, see everyone in the place
Showing 'Pac love got a smile on my face
The girl in the miniskirt has bad taste
Because her shirt don't match
And there's a puddin' stain on the back
What the {fuck} is that?
It might be doo-doo
And you in the back, you ain't {shit}
You bought a gin and tonic but you didn't even tip
And if you hit the table one more time then the record might skip
Might skip... I told you, stop hittin' the table
Tupac Shakur
I wrote this rhyme in 1994
I'm not alive!
Thug life!
Dave Chappelle, that ain't your wife
A married man, you've got two kids
Go home!
I wrote this song a long time ago
A real long time ago
Way before Beanie Sigel had to do a bid
Way before Dave Chappelle had two kids
No friends, and no future
