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 ***Me and my homies is wonderin'...what's goin on? Holla...
[2Pac] 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 us 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 M'Thulu? 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
[E.D.I. Amin] 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
[Kastro] 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
[2Pac] 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
[Big Syke] 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
[2Pac] 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 scout 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' troopsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
