Joell Ortiz, Dante Hawkins - Letter To Obama lyrics
[Joell Ortiz, Dante Hawkins - Letter To Obama lyrics]
Yaowa what's up future president my
Name is Joell Ortiz and I'm the voice of the
Underdogs in the hood so
I wanted to write this letter to you
To see what you thought
Dear future president
I grew up with no brothers and sisters
And my moms was on public assistance
And her husband was missing
She developed this disgusting addiction
That had her on some of the ugliest missions
So she missed some appointments
She was supposed to keep
My coverage consistent
I was a chronic asthmatic
Huffing, puffing and whistling
Can't get a breath, I wished for death
It hurt my chest when I coughed
Ooh yeah, I'm from the projects of New York
We love basketball
But last summer my boy got left on the court
Some kid reached next to his shorts and
Put some lead in his thoughts
And the murder's moms, she jetted from court
Her only son had 18 years in the
Street he living the rest up north
My other homie selling crack
He always tell me it's wack
Everyday he filling out apps but
They don't call him back
Background check spotted his felony
But that ain't fair you make a mistake
You can't fix it man this world don't care
That's how he feel and he got
Bills so he moving them krills
Living life over his shoulder
Boys in blue on his heels
His little sister, man she grown
She done threw on them heels
Exotic dancing on a pole look what
She do for a bill
Took one of them young boys
Backstage pursuing a thrill
Caught that thing now everyday she
Wake up doing them pills
I get mad when I see what
Other artists do with a mill
With a couple G's I bought my
P's a few computers for real
Y'all done forgot where ya came from
Have you no honor?
Only thing that change do is
Causing you more drama
Here's a couple wise words from
The dude that go Yaowa
It's time for a change and
That change is Obama
Dear future president
I hope you heard this letter
And do something to
Make sure the next one I'm writing is better
Peace, Joell Ortiz! (Yaowa, What up Green?)
It's been a story of survival
Poverty and sorrow and the question is
Can you hold on till tomorrow?
(Can you hold on?)
And when tomorrow comes won't
It be much better?
So Mr future President please
Open up this letter
Name is Joell Ortiz and I'm the voice of the
Underdogs in the hood so
I wanted to write this letter to you
To see what you thought
Dear future president
I grew up with no brothers and sisters
And my moms was on public assistance
And her husband was missing
She developed this disgusting addiction
That had her on some of the ugliest missions
So she missed some appointments
She was supposed to keep
My coverage consistent
I was a chronic asthmatic
Huffing, puffing and whistling
Can't get a breath, I wished for death
It hurt my chest when I coughed
Ooh yeah, I'm from the projects of New York
We love basketball
But last summer my boy got left on the court
Some kid reached next to his shorts and
Put some lead in his thoughts
And the murder's moms, she jetted from court
Her only son had 18 years in the
Street he living the rest up north
My other homie selling crack
He always tell me it's wack
Everyday he filling out apps but
They don't call him back
Background check spotted his felony
But that ain't fair you make a mistake
You can't fix it man this world don't care
That's how he feel and he got
Bills so he moving them krills
Living life over his shoulder
Boys in blue on his heels
His little sister, man she grown
She done threw on them heels
Exotic dancing on a pole look what
She do for a bill
Took one of them young boys
Backstage pursuing a thrill
Caught that thing now everyday she
Wake up doing them pills
I get mad when I see what
Other artists do with a mill
With a couple G's I bought my
P's a few computers for real
Y'all done forgot where ya came from
Have you no honor?
Only thing that change do is
Causing you more drama
Here's a couple wise words from
The dude that go Yaowa
It's time for a change and
That change is Obama
Dear future president
I hope you heard this letter
And do something to
Make sure the next one I'm writing is better
Peace, Joell Ortiz! (Yaowa, What up Green?)
It's been a story of survival
Poverty and sorrow and the question is
Can you hold on till tomorrow?
(Can you hold on?)
And when tomorrow comes won't
It be much better?
So Mr future President please
Open up this letter