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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