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Listen to Us or Else: Letter to the System by T.I.
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
T.I.
T.I.
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Clifford Harris
Clifford Harris
Composer
Jacquez Lowe
Jacquez Lowe
Composer
Translee Macklin
Translee Macklin
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Digital Natives
Digital Natives
Producer
Elliot Carter
Elliot Carter
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Ain't it hard enough
To raise your sons and your daughters up
Without dealin' with the racist stuff
Man, I just got outta prison, tryin' hard as fuck
And it seem like it's a green light
On anyone with my skin type
Get pulled over for a tail light
And get shot, know what that feel like?
Man, it real life
[Verse 2]
We ain't have to be brought here, man, real life
But the fact is, that we all here
If you don't, like you shoulda left us where we were
It's all your fault, yeah, see? LOL, JK, JK
Everybody sing Kumbaya
[Verse 3]
Reparations, that'll never happen
But we ain't just gon' be abused by y'all
Wait a minute, I'm confused
I thought every man was treated equal
Read it in the Constitution
Yeah, only when they feel like stickin' to it
But USA the greatest nation in the world
That my story, and I'm stickin' to it
Keep stickin' to it
[Verse 4]
In a letter to the system (Hey)
For my brothers in them prisons (Uh)
And the soldiers that fell victim to that bullshit
(Say, bitches, us or them?)
Man, this shit designed to beat us
You the find the one to lead us
But sick of the way you treat us, this some bullshit
(Say, bitches, us or them?)
[Verse 5]
Yeah, you on my shit list, yeah
In a letter to the system (You dig?)
I hope you bitches listen (You dig?)
Stay the fuck out my business
(Bitches, us or them?)
Business, mindin', mindin' my business
We need my fuckin' reparations (You dig?)
All of my 40 acres (You dig?)
Don't even con us (Us or them?)
Now these fools vote on Instagram
They don't give a damn
My grandma on the phone, screamin' "Oh, boy, oh, boy"
Damn, and she ain't never heard of Killer Camp
[Verse 6]
Clocks feelin' like a ceiling fan
And she remember back when Martin Luther
He was marchin', marchin', led the Million Man
And she feelin' that shit, begin again
Man, they got the problem solver for y'all .38s and revolvers
They shoulda never involved us
Probably knew that white women would stalk us
Neiman to Marcus, freedom to Marcus
Neimans and Narcos, narcotic talkers
Walkin' or joggin', walk outta Target
Stop and frisk, police'll go in my pocket
Drug search over illegal parking
Drug dog, when they see me, they barkin'
Black skin is the target
Black for sale on the black market
And it's all free, we don't ask for nothin'
I got me, I ain't backwards hustlin'
We got us, we ain't taxin' us
Get yo' ol' ass back, back, back, back, back, back
Back to the back of the bus
[Verse 7]
In my letter to the system
For my brothers in them prisons (Uh)
All the soldiers that fell victim to that bullshit
(Say, bitches, us or them?)
Man, this shit designed to beat us
You the find the one to lead us
But sick of the way you treat us, this some bullshit
(Say, bitches, us or them?)
[Verse 8]
Yeah, you on my shit list, yeah
In my letter to the system (You dig?)
I hope you bitches listen (You dig?)
Stay the fuck out my business
(Bitches, us or them?)
Business, mindin', mindin' my business
Need my fuckin' reparations (You dig?)
All of my 40 acres (You dig?)
Don't even con us (Us or them?)
Written by: Clifford Harris, Jacquez Lowe, Translee Macklin

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