An Open Letter (Interlude) Lyrics – The Hamilton Mixtape

Song Overview

I still remember the first time this minute-and-a-half firecracker slid into my earphones: a flash-paper rant, equal parts history lesson and roast session, leaving scorch marks on every syllable. “An Open Letter (Interlude)” slots in at track five on The Hamilton Mixtape, but it feels like the project’s mischievous pulse—Watsky’s signature rapid-fire dexterity matching Lin-Manuel Miranda’s barbed quips beat for beat. Clocking in at just 1 minute 46 seconds , the piece revives a rap originally trimmed from Hamilton’s off-Broadway workshop, giving John Adams the lyrical lashing that never made curtain time .

More than a tossed-off skit, though, the interlude embodies Hamilton’s broader experiment: hip-hop theatre as living historiography. When the mixtape itself blasted onto the Billboard 200 at No. 1 in December 2016 , this track helped prove that a Broadway universe could thrive on streaming platforms and car stereos alike. Two years later the compilation was certified double-platinum by the RIAA —rare air for any cast-adjacent release.

Song Credits

• Featured: ShockWave (beatboxing)
• Producers: ShockWave, Bill Sherman
• Composer / Lyricist: Lin-Manuel Miranda
• Release Date: December 2, 2016
• Album: The Hamilton Mixtape
• Track #: 5
• Length: 1 : 46
• Genre: Hip-Hop Theatre, Rap, Broadway
• Instruments: Beatboxing, piano motif, sampled percussion
• Label: Atlantic Records
• Mood: Sardonic, confrontational, tongue-in-cheek
• Language: English
• Copyright © & ? Atlantic Records & Hamilton Uptown LLC

Song Meaning and Annotations

The groove barely settles in before Watsky fires his opening broadside—“An open letter to the fat, arrogant, anti-charismatic … John Adams, shiiiiiit!” The piano figure from “Wait For It” bleeds underneath, like a ghost of Aaron Burr whispering, wait, your enemies will hang themselves. Instead, Hamilton lunges first. Genre-wise, this is battle-rap stitched to colonial parchment: boom-bap beatboxing meets Federalist flame-war.

The arc is classic diss-track architecture. We leap from accusations (“He claims that I’m in league with Britain”) to playground mockery (“Sit down, John, you fat mother-—”). Between those poles lies political theatre: Hamilton taunts Adams for absentee leadership, conjures Abigail’s private dismay, and name-drops Jefferson like a weaponized rumour. Watsky’s triplet runs turn Miranda’s text into musket fire—every third note a mini-explosion.

The line is behind me, I crossed it again

Here Hamilton admits conscious transgression. He isn’t drifting over the edge; he’s sprinting across it on purpose, knowing each provocation rewrites his public image.

You’re a nuisance with no sense, you would die of irrelevance

This insult doubles as prophecy: Adams indeed fell to single-term obscurity, overshadowed by Jefferson’s incoming administration.

Verse 1

The verse lampoons Adams’s work ethic (“never show up to work”) and frames Hamilton as the diligent, if morally flexible, statesman. The beatboxing pauses just long enough for each punchline to land—then piles on with the next rhyme, like pamphlets hurled from a printing press.

Chorus / Outro

Instead of a sung refrain, the interlude ends with a kazoo-flecked “do-do-do” tag—musical graffiti over Adams’s presidential portrait. It signals Hamilton’s giddy self-awareness: he’s penning history’s footnote with comic timing.

Annotations

The piano line drifts in from “Wait for It,” carrying its unresolved tension into the intro — a subtle thread linking Hamilton’s foes, ever watchful, waiting for his downfall.

*stage whisper* Then you hear the scratch of pen on paper — Hamilton’s public letter taking shape: “Letter from Alexander Hamilton, Concerning the Public Conduct and Character of John Adams, Esq. President of the United States.”

Watsky doesn’t sing — he dictates. It’s as though we’re inside Hamilton’s mind, watching him frame each accusation, each challenge. And just when you think it’s all words on a page, the rhythm kicks in — that’s when the rap begins.

Funny enough, back during the Constitutional Convention, Hamilton pitched the idea of a governor-for-life — think monarchy, a bit too close for comfort after breaking free from Britain. That moved Adams to see him as dangerously royalist. But maybe Hamilton was just playing political chess, softening Madison’s Plan B by comparison.

It’s when Hamilton unveils his central-bank scheme in 1791 that Adams’ alarm bells really ring. A conservative through and through, Adams sees Hamilton’s designs as veering dangerously toward old-world monarchy. He’s spooked — and that worry grows into full-on suspicion.

In early drafts of the piece, Hamilton spits,

“Bitch please.”

Adams was infamous for spending long stretches away in Boston — seven months, actually, in his very first year as president, during an undeclared war with France. Meanwhile, Hamilton felt like time was slipping — so to him, Adams was dodging duty.

Side note: Lin-Manuel Miranda slips in a nod to The West Wing, via the “Indians in the Lobby” line — it’s that blend of political drama and wry humor.

There’s also a wink to 1776, where Adams’ bluster is met with chorus-mocking: “Oh for God’s sake, John, sit down!” Hamilton is channeling that same exasperation here.

History note: Adams may’ve been rough around the edges — possibly even bipolar — but he played a role in our independence. Yet in Hamilton’s eyes, his impact was underwhelming. Hence the line:

“Go ahead: You can call me the Devil / You aspire to my level / You aspire to malevolence!”

Hamilton slyly reminds Adams of the Jeffersons — both personal friends — noting that political ambitions can fracture even deep bonds. Jefferson was already plotting a different course, one that clashed with Adams’ approach.

Then comes the accusation: Adams thought Hamilton had spies in Congress. That’s distrust turning strategic, turning public.

In the end, Adams becomes America’s first one-term president — beaten by Jefferson in the third election after glancing a victory once. Hamilton knows what that feels like and he’s pointing it right at Adams.

One final punch:

“Sit down, John, you fat motherfucker.”

Similar Songs

1. “Cabinet Battle #1” – Original Broadway Cast
   Both pieces weaponize rap cadence to dramatize 1790s policy disputes. Where “An Open Letter” is a solo roast delivered on paper, “Cabinet Battle #1” plays out like 8 Mile in waistcoats. The call-and-response energy, Jefferson’s verbal jabs, and Washington’s referee role echo Hamilton’s pugilistic temperament. Tonally, “Cabinet Battle” is broader—policy bullet points fly—but the underlying thrill is the same: using hip-hop to let dead politicians breathe and sneer.
2. “The Adams Administration” (2014 Workshop) – Lin-Manuel Miranda & Cast
   This ancestor track houses many of the bars resurrected in Watsky’s rendition. The workshop version is rougher, almost academic—a historian testing drum patterns. Comparing the two illuminates how flow, tempo, and vocal colour reshape identical text. Watsky trims exposition, accelerates syllables, and swaps live orchestra for ShockWave’s mouth-made rhythm, creating a more condensed, YouTube-friendly cannon blast.
3. “Like Toy Soldiers” – Eminem
   On the surface, Eminem’s 2004 single chronicles rap-game feuds, not 18th-century politics. Yet both songs dissect the collateral damage of public beefs. Em laments casualties (“I’m supposed to be the soldier who never blows his composure”), mirroring Hamilton’s awareness that his pen could self-destruct his career. Each track layers self-critique over confrontational braggadocio, reminding listeners that vendettas rarely end neatly.

Questions and Answers

Why was the rap cut from the final Broadway show?

Miranda trimmed it for pacing. “The Adams Administration” slowed Act 2’s momentum; the essential exposition was folded into dialogue, and the diss-track found new life on the mixtape.

Did Watsky write any of the verses himself?

No—the words are 100 % Lin-Manuel Miranda. Watsky focused on delivery, adding personal rhythmic flair while honouring Miranda’s original scansion.

Is “An Open Letter” historically accurate?

Hamilton indeed published a blistering pamphlet against Adams in 1800. Miranda condenses the 50-page tirade into a minute of rap, exaggerating language but preserving the core grievances.

Has the track ever been performed live?

Yes—Miranda and original cast members popped it out at ham-for-ham sidewalk shows, and Watsky has slipped it into his own sets, often segueing from “Whoa Whoa Whoa” into the colonial roast.

What’s the significance of ShockWave’s beatboxing?

It keeps the arrangement raw—no orchestral safety net—mirroring Hamilton’s unfiltered rage on the page and nodding to hip-hop’s street-corner origins.

Awards and Chart Positions

• The Hamilton Mixtape debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 (week of December 17, 2016)
• Certified 2× Platinum by the RIAA in 2018
• Ranked in Billboard’s 2017 year-end Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums list

Fan and Media Reactions

“Watsky is on a project with Nas, Busta, the Roots and tons more legends … so proud of this dude.” Spect

“I am SO glad this is on the mixtape – makes me laugh, and Watsky KILLS IT!” demachka

“I was listening to the mixtape today, and I did a double-take because this was so unconventional but hilarious!” ibattista

“That kazoo. I can’t stop looping it.” arcvac

“Wish they had kept this one in the show, I love it!” Holli