| Yeah, this is for all, my niggas locked down
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| Ya’ll know what it is, you know, pictures on the wall
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| Nahwhatimean, fantasizing about all kinds of bitches and shit
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| You know, word up, models, actresses, you know what it is, knowhatimean?
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| Yo, Dear Beyonce, I fantasize about you every night
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| Therefore I’m sending you a kite
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| I’m working out, reading books, trying to get the body and mind right
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| What up with Kelly? |
| Word on the street, she was sleeping with Nelly
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| I heard it from my cellie
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| Paparazzi spotted them, coming out of a telly
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| But anyway, I seen your videos, «Deja Vu»
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| «Ring the Alarm», «To the Left» had me illing yo
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| You the illest chick, I got all your flicks
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| Forget Trina, you the baddest bitch
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| I love the way you smile, sexy profile
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| We probably would of met, if I didn’t blow trial, but anyhow
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| You my 'Dreamgirl', with a 'Supreme' style
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| A lodi dodi, I can tell you like to party
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| Every inmate in jail is loving you hardbody
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| Send a word to Michelle, my cellie said she can sing like hell
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| And when he touchdown, like LL, he wanna rock her bells
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| But for now, I got to end this letter
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| You a black queen like Coretta Scott King, shine like a diamond ring
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| Dear R&B chick, for you I catch a vic'
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| I know this sound sick, in my cell checking out your flicks
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| You so hot, laid back on my cot
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| You got a body that will never rot
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| One love to Keyshia Cole, Ciara, Beyonce
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| Alicia Keys, Rihanna
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| You ladies stay on fire like ganja
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| Yo, Dear Mary J. Blige, what’s the 411, hon?
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| Like Wyclef warn me, somebody call 911
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| Besides going through the law library
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| All I do is dream about you, reminisce about «Real Love»
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| Off my convict crew, all I wanna do is be happy
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| Congratulations, I heard you was married
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| You deserve the best, my life tatted on your chest
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| Nice firm breasts, make a thug wanna caress your flesh
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| Ghetto queen wife, «No More Drama» in your life
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| Alot of fights in prison, I gained stripes
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| Take me as I am, you’re a Superwoman like Karyn White
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| I’m praying you get a divorce, so I can come
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| Scoop you like a prince and a horse
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| Be your knight in shining armor, like a thug in a bulletproof Porsche
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| But for now, I got to end this letter, sincerely yours
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| Send another kite next winter, I want to eat you out for dinner
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| Yo, what up Keyshia Cole? |
| I love your old from the stroll
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| The way you sing it so bold, a thug like me would never fold
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| Like wine I get fine as I get old, I remember you was sent from heaven
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| Protected by the seven, I’m just like you
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| Almost got defeated, I should of had cheated if it was needed
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| Luckily, I succeded, I like 'em light skin like Alicia Keys
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| Or brownskin like Rihanna, smoking on ganja
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| Long legs like Ciara, you promise your goodies sweet like cookies
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| I wanna taste your nookie, the Granddaddy Flow is a pro, these other
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| Cats is all rookies |