[Intro: Joell Ortiz] 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 [Main verse: Joell Ortiz] Dear future president I grew up with no brothers and sisters And my moms was on public a**istance 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 d**h 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?) [Dante Hawkins] 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...