Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Letter To The President, artist - 2Pac. Album song Still I Rise, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The Estate of Tupac Shakur
Song language: English
Letter To The President |
Uhh. |
dear Mr. President |
Whas happenin? |
I’m writin you because, shit is still real fucked up in my neighborhood |
Pretty much the same way, right around the time when you got elected |
Ain’t nothin changed |
All the promises you made, before you got elected. |
. |
they ain’t came true |
Tell me what to do, these niggaz actin up in the hood |
Send mo’troops, dear Mr. President |
(Me and my homies is wonderin what’s goin on. holla!) |
Tell me what to do, these niggaz actin up in the hood |
Send mo’troops. |
Why should I lie, when I can dramatize? |
Niggaz fell victim to my lyrics, now traumatized |
Simply by spittin I’ve been blessed given riches, enemies suspicious |
cause I’m seldom in the company of bitches |
Plus the concepts I depict, so visual, that you can kiss |
each and every trick or bitch, inside the shit I kick |
My heaviest verse’ll move a mountain |
Casualties in mass amounts, brothers keep countin |
Fuck the friendships, I ride alone |
Destination Death Row, finally found a home |
Plus all my homies wanna die, call it euthanasia |
Dear Lord, look how sick this ghetto made us, sincerely |
yours I’m a thug, the product of a broken home |
Everybody’s doped up, nigga what you smokin on? |
Figure if we high they can train us but then America fucked up and blamed up I guess it’s cause we black that we targets |
My only fear is God, I spit that hard shit |
In case you don’t know, I let my pump go Get? |
ride for? |
Mutulu like I ride for Geronimo |
Down to die, for everything I represent |
Meant every word, in my letter to the President |
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |
(What should I do?) |
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |
Oh youse a ball in the White House, I hope you comfortable |
cause yo I spend my nights out, with the lights out |
under the safety of darkness, amongst the crazed and the heartless |
and young soul bros, ready to rode a starship |
Launch it, leave a nigga flat for scratch, the Godless |
I gotta get chips, but you can’t understand that |
Wanna ban rap? |
Stand back, before you get hurt |
It’s the only thing makin pay besides smoke and work |
On a mission listen more chips my goal and position |
First on my decision I realized the same nigga |
Trippin to drastic measures tryin to get stacks of cheddar |
Muh’fuckers hate cops, wait it ain’t gettin better |
But you keep, tellin us, that it is while your motherfuckin troops keep killin our kids, dig |
Don’t be surprised if you see us Dumpin with nuttin but artillery to free us, motherfucker |
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |
Strapped and angry, with no hope and heartbroke |
Fightin first my trained brain until it’s not so It’s hostile, niggaz lick shots to watch the glocks glow |
Cadres of coppers patrol us like we some animals |
And it ain’t no peace, my peace a piece on my streets |
to people beefin and things, squeakin on they beefs for weeks |
Mr. President, it’s evident, nobody really care |
for a struggle out the gutter, twenty-two with gray hair |
I was raised to raise hell, frail and my heart stale |
So I’ma bring hell to earth until my heart fail |
But y’all play fair, give me and mine, I’ll share |
Til y’all show us you care, it’s gon’be mayhem out here |
Me and these 223'sll freeze the biggest with ease |
I’m still a nigga you fear, bring the beast to his knees |
and I’ve been born to represent, for that I’ve been heaven sent |
And I meant, every word, in my letter, to the President |
Shit is still fucked up y’all |
And y’all wonder when it’s gon’get better |
and it ain’t gon’get better |
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up. |
Heavenly Father may I holla at you briefly |
I wanna meet the President, but will he meet me? |
He’s scared to look inside the eyes of a Thug Nigga |
We tired of bein scapegoats for this capitalistic drug dealin |
How hypocritical is Liberty? |
That blind bitch ain’t never did shit for me My history, full of casket and scars |
My own black nation at war, whole family behind bars |
And they wonder why we scarred, thirteen lookin hard |
Sister had a baby as an adolescent, where was God? |
Somewhere in the middle of my mind |
is a nigga on the tightrope, screamin let him die |
Can’t lie I’m a thug, drownin in my own blood |
Lookin for the reason that my momma’s strung out on drugs |
Down to die, for everything I represent |
Meant every word, in my letter to the President |
Blacks is broke, think it’s a joke that we livin low? |
Y’all sniffin blow and postin what they hittin fo'? |
Tell the secretary it’s necessary we get paid |
Look what you made, little kids gettin sprayed |
Day after day, and night after night |
Battles and wars to the daylight |
We might change and rearrange if you do somethin |
Til then we gonna keep it comin, Mr. President |
Hehe |
And I meant every word in my letter to the President |
Word motherfuckin life |
Fuck this nigga think? |
Cuttin taxes, takin off welfare |
We 'sposed to just sit here, go broke and die, starvin? |
Motherfuckers crazier than a motherfuckin ?? |
Nigga this Thug Life, Westside Outlaw Immortalz nigga |
We fin’to hustle til we come up Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |
Dear Mr. Clinton, shit |
It’s gettin harder and harder for a motherfucker |
to make a dollar in these here streets |
I mean shit, I hear you screamin peace |
But we can’t find peace |
til my little niggaz on these streets get a piece |
I know you feel me cause you too near me not to hear me So why don’t you help a nigga out? |
Sayin you cuttin welfare |
That got us niggaz on the street, thinkin who in the hell care? |
Shit, y’all want us to put down our glocks and our rocks |
but y’all ain’t ready to give us no motherfuckin dollars |
What happened to our 40 acres and a mule fool? |
We ain’t stupid |
Think you got us lookin to lose |
Tryin to turn all us young niggaz into troops |
You want us to fight your war |
What the fuck I’m fightin for? |
Shit, I ain’t got no love here |
I ain’t had a check all year |
Taxin, all the blacks and |
police beatin me in the streets |
Fuck peace |
These niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo’troops |