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"2Pac"
"2Pac"
название:
автор:
жанры: rap, hip-hop
альбомы: Still I Rise
Letter To The President
автор:
2Pac
жанры: rap, hip-hop
альбомы: Still I Rise
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5.3 / 1309 просмотров
- Текст
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Uh dear Mr. President what's 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 trueTell 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' troopsWhy 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 bitchesPlus 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, sincerelyYours 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 upI 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 goGet ride for M'Thulu like I ride for Geronimo Down to die, for everything I represent Meant every word, in my letter to the PresidentDear 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' troopsOh 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 starshipLaunch 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 workOn 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' betterBut 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, motherfuckerDear Mr. President, tell us 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' troopsStrapped 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 animalsAnd 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 hairI 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 hereMe and these 223s'll 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 PresidentShit is still fucked up y'all And y'all wonder when it's gon' get better And it ain't gon' get betterDear 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' upHeavenly 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 barsAnd 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 dieCan'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 PresidentBlacks 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' sprayedDay 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 PresidentWord motherfuckin' life fuck this nigga think? Cuttin' taxes, takin' off welfare We 'sposed to just sit here, go broke and die, starvin'? This motherfucker's crazier than motherfuckin' [Incomprehensible] Nigga this Thug Life, Westside Outlaw Immortalz nigga We fin' to hustle 'til we come upDear 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' troopsDear 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' troopsDear 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' peaceBut 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' dollarsWhat 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
Это интересно:Об альбоме Still I Rise:
Still I Rise — совместный студийный альбом Тупака Шакура и его подопечных — группы Outlawz (без Hussein Fatal).
Альбом содержит ранее не выпускавшийся материал, записанный в период 1995-1996 гг. на лейбле Death Row Records. Треки «Secretz of War» и «Tattoo Tears» изначально предполагались выйти на совместном альбоме Тупака и группы Boot Camp Clik — One Nation, но из-за смерти Тупака, вскоре были выпущены на альбоме Still I Rise.
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