Ms. Hill

Another night, slips away
 In other words, I should say
 There are no words, you should say
 There are no words
 Another night, slips away
 In other words, I should say
 There are no words, you should say
 There are no words
 Ms. Hill, you got skills, that's a gift, it's real
 Get ill, what you spit got the power to uplift the heel
 I wish I could talk to Lauryn
 I mean excuse me, Ms. Hill
 And let her know how much we love her is real
 The industry was beating her up
 Then those demons started eating her up
 She need a savior that'll bleed in a cup, yup
 We used to kick it in the salad days
 When she look at me like she ain't know me when she see me nowadays
 I nod, she nod back, that's how it stay
 Her songs still better than anything out than "Hot" or "Power" play
 Remember how they accused her of saying, he did her album without help
 Then she went to Rome to sing and tell the Pope about herself
 Just after she left the Fugees, started rolling with the Marleys
 Got back with her crew at Dave Chapelle's Block Party
 She made songs about Zion and trying to be faithful
 Took Black Star on tour in Europe, I was so grateful
 Speaking for myself but I'm sure I could speak for Dante
 I got to watch a show with Nina Simone and Harry Belafonte
 We used to chill at Nkiru, her moms was a customer
 She used to love to buy the books by Octavia Butler
 Parable of the Sower, the main character's name was Lauren
 What the album did for black girls' souls was so important
 I got concerned when she got sick on the road
 She ain't healthy,, I'm a brother
 And I wish that I could pick up the load, but no
 Got your assitant on the the phone, "I need to talk to Lauryn"
 And I wanna walk through the storm, and I could be the umbrella when the rain is pouring
 Please, this no disrespect to whoever your man is, though
 This relationship is strictly music like D'angelo
 I know you hate Babylon, and wanna see it fall
 But they won't let you read your poem at the BET awards
 You give us hope, you give us faith, you the one
 They don't like what you got to say
 But still they beg you to come, whoa
 Now that's powerful sis, it's black power
 We get money, keep our eyes on the final hour
 And no I ain't saying you Christ, that would be sacriligous right?
 But you can blow and you nice, sisters them raps is vicious
 The raps the sisters recite with their black fist up
 The devil's last wish is a queen that rise past bitches
 We used to read Francis Crest or anything
 By Third World Press impressed
 But what the power of the word suggest
 Hatched ideas in our heads like birds in the nest
 You gave birth to a new sound like Donda West, yes
 Should I be saying all of this while the mic is on?
 I might as well let it out because one day I might be gone
 I write this song and hope you feel how much we love you
 And you play it, cause I really ain't got the words to say it
 But yo