The Letter

Mack 10

Composição de: D. Rolison
Intro: 

(*Man have you heard this stuff? 
This gangsta rap? It's fuckin bullshit. 
They're just talkin about dealin drugs and 
beatin on people and shit 
carryin guns to the studio. It's fucked up shit. 
And y'know you niggas 
can't communicate with people*) 
[Mack 10] Aw fuck you you punk ass motherfucker 
What the fuck you mean we can't communicate with people? 
I tell you what since we can't communicate eh eh 
Eh B (yo) I'm gonna write this motherfucker a letter (alright) 
Eh dogg, hand me my notebook (Here you go, dogg) 

Verse One: 

To whom it may concern whoever you may be 
Before you criticise, try to understand me 
If this shit do a million everytime you drop it 
then you would be foolish to change the topic 
I straight fiend for the cheddar, you know I got to get it 
So I swing for the fence everytime I hit it 
I been raised around the gangsta shit since elementary 
with Gz and the feds and the state penitentiary 
I'm from the place where the enemies put the scope on you 
and when the police pull you over they plant dope on you 
But you do what you need to feed your kids and your girl 
But you bastards don't even understand my world 
What you know about bangin, drug distributin and lootin 
eviction notices and, drive-by shootin? 
So to whom it may concern, this letter is to show 
that real niggas only rap about what they know 

Chorus: 

I do it all for the cash, scrilla and the doe 
If you ban gangsta rap then I gotta sell blow 
To whom it may concern, this letter is to show 
that real niggas only rap about what they know 
*repeat* 

Verse Two: 

I done had it up to here with the ass kissin 
plus a nigga fed up with the media dissin 
Politicians protest and hate like the rest 
while niggas in the ghetto remain under stress 
But I stay gangsta, keep bangin and hittin switches 
while some West Coast Gz act like bitches 
How the fuck you gonna speak against gangsta rap, nigga? 
when that's what the fuck made you a gang of snaps, nigga 
Fool was the shit, now how could you dare 
become a millionaire and forget what got you there? 
Fuck that, I hit a stick laced with embalment fluid 
and make jams that make ya B and C walk to it 
I was able to bang the hood and pack a fo'-fo' 
Avoid the po-po and become a rap pro 
So to whom it may concern, this letter is to show 
that real niggas only rap about what they know 

Chorus 

Verse Three: 

I keep my pants saggin and my boxers showin 
And nigga it's Hoo Bangin for life in case you ain't knowin 
Look at the cops, I know they fed around and fiest out 
Peepin me cos I'm a thug and the watches iced out 
I got homies cookin chemicals like a chemist 
Next thing ya know we're outta town with birds flippin like a gymnast 
All we know is bang or boss so we're jugglin 
Can't get a job with two strikes so we're drug smugglin 
Wit heat on my back like I'm solar, wit a pistola 
mashin thru the ghetto witta car fulla yola 
But I'd rather write rhymes and rap over beats 
And if they ban that then a nigga still got to eat 
In every situation poverty's what I'm facin 
So I leave shell cases and keep my smoker's free basin 
So to whom it may concern, this letter is to show 
that real niggas only rap about what they know 

Outro: 

PS, all you punk motherfuckers out there 
hatin on us young niggas gettin all this money, eat a dick! 
Cos we gon' stay rich, and continue to do our 
thang and forever hoo ridin and Hoo Bang, nigga 

Chorus to fade
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