Lauryn...? Lauryn? Where have you been? I can't hear your song bird in the crackling of the record's spin. Was the world not ready for that young girl from Ill Town, New Jersey who rocked steady with "words heavy like the mind of sister Betty"? Maybe everything wasn't really everything.

Maybe your intellectual, soul saturated voice of time tested taster's choice wasn't taken to heart. A time when people needed to listen but instead turned a deaf ear. So you chose exile do to lack of enlightenment. I fully understand in spite of it.

But class was dismissed on your Miseducation much to soon. The leaves of your knowledge tree were well nourished flourishing in full bloom. Planted deep within your prime way before your time. I soaked in that of what you let the song cry and wiped tears as I focused in my third eye.

For your message never had an end to it. Been rhymin' and singin' way before Drake put a trend to it. A major influence on every ghetto, every city youth. A pleasing sound to the painful truth. It hurt so bad but it felt so good to hear your voice ring on that summer in the hood.

Mrs. Hill. Mrs. Hill. R&B for real, diamond on any record deal. The game needs you. Please caress the microphone. L Boogie, the sweetness voice I've ever known. - by Robert Marshall b.k.a. Slimm Williams