(Verse 1)
Listen close, as life turns its pages
Makaveli here, kickin rhymes for the ages
See things is stagin, wise words spoken by sages
From Skytell to black mary pages
Yo crew don't phase us
We make you busters pay us
Run up in yo spot, like CJ from San Andreas
(Hook)
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
(Verse 2)
What can a nigga do
When half the people voted for George W.
That's some shit
George W., it can't be true
Bout to choke him, cause he's a snitch
I'm talkin bout George W. Smith
From city council
He ran in '93, out in Oakland
You probly didn't hear about him
(Hook)
I wrote this song a long time ago
A real long time ago
Way before Slim Shady was in demand
Way before he dropped balogna on that dinner stand
I wrote this song in '94
Am I doin this!?
(Verse 3)
Look around the club
See everyone in the place
Showin Pac love, got a smile on my face
The girl in the mini-skirt, has bad taste
Cause her shirt don't match
Theres a corny 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 her Gin n Tonic, butchu didnt even tip
And if you hit this table one more time
Then the record might skip-might skip
I told you, stop hittin the table
TuPac Shakur
I wrote this song in 1994!
I'm not alive!
Thug life!
Dave Chapelle, that ain'tcha wife
Go home!
(Hook)
I wrote this song a long time ago
A real long time ago
Way before bein single had to do with bed
Way before Dave Chapelle had two kids
