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Artist: Big Syke f/ 2Pac, Outlawz
Album:  Where I've Been Mixtape 
Song:   Letter to the President (Remix)
Typed by: westbingmanson@gmail.com

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
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

[Chorus: 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 in the hood, send mo' troops

[Verse 2: EDI]
Oh youse a baller 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
And a Mr. cobra contest

[Verse 3: Kastro]
With all these problems my world
Spendin' this drama on earl
My President never seen senate with pleasure like
Whatever momma tell me She hit it
No, not the lottery shit
Meanin' she do What I ain't do
Break her off before I did slip

[Verse 4: EDI]
Deep into the mind Of a loner
My foes say fuck him, he's a goner but it ain't no shorts
Up on these corners on a mission
Listen let's ease my guard
With precision personally my decision
When I realize this ain't livin'

[Verse 5: Kastro]
How you really ain't no how this ghetto life go
For me and all my homies, when our enemies bone
You got the C.I.A. and we got our A.K.
For protection In our section when the felony days
To the President
(Ha ha)

[Chorus: 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 in the hood, send mo' troops

[Verse 6: Big Syke]
(Check it)
Mr. President, I represent the ghetto tell your wife, hello
I got to go I be brief with this pedigree
Niggas is locked and said blocks on penitentiary life
More niggas in jail than baptized
For centuries minority, families how you stay lackin'
Homeless shelters over-crowded and you still taxin'
Homies dyin' out who got the clout not me
You get more time for five grams than a half a key
Black poppin' rocks and whites on the potty rhyme
And why don't test mine rather die than let you see me cry
Across the border ask the lord to put somebody in your seat
That cares, how can we stay in this world we supposed to share
Democrastic, republicans, scum me to the concrete
No education inflations covered by white sheets
Try to ball legally conspiracy surrounds me
So I'm a Outlaw from now until eternity
Forever Mussolini

[Chorus: 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 in the hood, send mo' troops
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do
These niggas, actin' up

[Verse 7: 2Pac]
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

[Verse 8: 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
And I meant every word in my letter to the President

[Outro/Chorus: 2Pac]
Hehe
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. President

Dear Mr. Clinton, shit (send mo' troops)
It's gettin harder and harder for a motherfucker (dear Mr. President)
to make a dollar in these here streets (these niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo' troops)
I mean shit, I hear you screamin peace 
But we can't find peace (dear Mr. President)
til my little niggaz on these streets get a piece (these niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo' troops)
I know you feel me cause you too near me not to hear me (Dear Mr. President)
So why don't you help a nigga out? (these niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo' troops)
Sayin you cuttin welfare (dear Mr. President)
That got us niggaz on the street, thinkin who in the hell care?... (these niggaz actin up in the hood, send mo' troops)