Dear R&B - 9th Prince

Yeah, this is for all, my niggas locked down

Ya’ll know what it is, you know, pictures on the wall

Nahwhatimean, fantasizing about all kinds of bitches and shit

You know, word up, models, actresses, you know what it is, knowhatimean?

Yo, Dear Beyonce, I fantasize about you every night

Therefore I’m sending you a kite

I’m working out, reading books, trying to get the body and mind right

What up with Kelly?

Word on the street, she was sleeping with Nelly

I heard it from my cellie

Paparazzi spotted them, coming out of a telly

But anyway, I seen your videos, «Deja Vu»

«Ring the Alarm», «To the Left» had me illing yo

You the illest chick, I got all your flicks

Forget Trina, you the baddest bitch

I love the way you smile, sexy profile

We probably would of met, if I didn’t blow trial, but anyhow

You my 'Dreamgirl', with a 'Supreme' style

A lodi dodi, I can tell you like to party

Every inmate in jail is loving you hardbody

Send a word to Michelle, my cellie said she can sing like hell

And when he touchdown, like LL, he wanna rock her bells

But for now, I got to end this letter

You a black queen like Coretta Scott King, shine like a diamond ring

Dear R&B chick, for you I catch a vic'

I know this sound sick, in my cell checking out your flicks

You so hot, laid back on my cot

You got a body that will never rot

One love to Keyshia Cole, Ciara, Beyonce

Alicia Keys, Rihanna

You ladies stay on fire like ganja

Yo, Dear Mary J. Blige, what’s the 411, hon?

Like Wyclef warn me, somebody call 911

Besides going through the law library

All I do is dream about you, reminisce about «Real Love»

Off my convict crew, all I wanna do is be happy

Congratulations, I heard you was married

You deserve the best, my life tatted on your chest

Nice firm breasts, make a thug wanna caress your flesh

Ghetto queen wife, «No More Drama» in your life

Alot of fights in prison, I gained stripes

Take me as I am, you’re a Superwoman like Karyn White

I’m praying you get a divorce, so I can come

Scoop you like a prince and a horse

Be your knight in shining armor, like a thug in a bulletproof Porsche

But for now, I got to end this letter, sincerely yours

Send another kite next winter, I want to eat you out for dinner

Yo, what up Keyshia Cole?

I love your old from the stroll

The way you sing it so bold, a thug like me would never fold

Like wine I get fine as I get old, I remember you was sent from heaven

Protected by the seven, I’m just like you

Almost got defeated, I should of had cheated if it was needed

Luckily, I succeded, I like 'em light skin like Alicia Keys

Or brownskin like Rihanna, smoking on ganja

Long legs like Ciara, you promise your goodies sweet like cookies

I wanna taste your nookie, the Granddaddy Flow is a pro, these other

Cats is all rookies