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

[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 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 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 ??
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


Lyrics submitted by spliphstar

Letter To The President song meanings
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4 Comments

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  • +1
    General Comment

    tsct u 19 year old think you know it all, 2pacs song arent about non existent problems. firstly. is being raised by one poor single crack addict mother tryna raise 3 kids in the 1990s ghetto af LA not a problem? the mans only male role models were drug addicts and the black panthers that his family was involved in ("incase u dont know i let my pump go i ride for mutulu like i ride for geranimo") so how was he not gonna have his music influenced by his surroundings. and if u actually understood music u would see the 2pac was writing from the perspective of the president when he says "send more troops" becoz hes trying to say that before u try and solve the bigger problems in your country, then u have 2 adress the issue of the poverty in local communites, and sending more police doesnt fix the problem. "tired of being scape-goats for this capitalistic drug dealing". think about it. and if u think rap as a whole is gay then why are u even posting here? good music is good music. what the hell is joining the service gonna do, thats not the answer to poverty. thats just a stupid republican/democrat way of not adressing the real issue. "no hesitation inflation is covered by the white sheets" the lyrics are contradicting everything that your saying. even if he hadnt been through something that he wrote about, hes job is to make good music and he made the best music. "the concepts i depict are so visual that you can kiss each and every trick or bitch inside the shit i kick". anyway, this song is lyricaly amazing and one of my favourite verses from EDI Amin is the 2nd in this song- "oh you a baller in the white house? i hope u comfortable cos yo i spend my nights out with the lights out in the safety of darnkness amongst the crazed and the heartless" hes talkin about the fact that across the street from the pentagon theres people sleeping in tents in the gutter. at the end of the verse hes admitting that violent revolution is the only choice that the system has left them ("dont be suprised if you see us coming with nothing but artilery to free us").. i could talk about this masterpiece all day, but all im gonna say is look closer my man.

    TinTin37on October 06, 2009   Link
  • 0
    General Comment

    This is a letter 'Pac actually wrote to Bill Clinton. Clinton was so confused that he decided to cheat on his wife with a fat person.

    Sublime_LBCon March 23, 2006   Link
  • -1
    General Comment

    all of tupac's songs are about his non-existant problems that he claims are a result of the fact that he is black; (because i guess black people face so many problems nowadays)

    Well, after almost no effort, i have come up with a life saving recipe to save these people (rappers who claim they're poor) from starving in an alley; ready, here it comes......

    JOIN THE FUCKING MILITARY ---- not only do you get paid, but you also get fed,

    OH WAIT, YOU'RE TOO MUCH OF A PUSSY TO JOIN THE SERVICE, I thought you were all tough and shit, guess not;

    or perhaps it's because you have a family; well in that case your a complete moron; you're supposed to make sure have enough money and a good paying job BEFORE you start a family, not start a family and then search frantically for quarters and scraps of singles on the road (before ultimately turning to the the most shallow (and gayest) form of music ever invented)

    tsct1990on May 03, 2006   Link
  • -1
    General Comment

    Pac's second verse ("heavenly father may I holla...") is probably my favorite Pac verse ever. he delivers it as only Pac could, full of emotion and conviction. as far as whether or not Pac had the problems he spoke of in reality, I'm not sure how that matters. Has Stephen King ever seen a 1958 Plymouth Fury driving without anyone behind the wheel? No, but it's a great story, and the allegorical message still gets across. being preoccupied with whether or not either of these authors is speaking from first hand experience reeks of spite...and displays a total lack of understanding or appreciation of the creative process. it begs the question: how do you enjoy music with that shortcoming? or are you like most people, just going through the motions to satisfy a need to be pop-cultually aware until you decide you no longer have time to keep up?

    newmansownon June 26, 2006   Link

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