Open Spoken Letter To Missy Elliott

Open Spoken Letter to Missy Elliott

Dear Miss E,

A lot of rappers come and go

but they all seem to miss me

They don’t touch me, you feel me?

They don’t feel me, 

so really

these 5 senses sense the fact that mute desires

disallow me to speak you

Do the math class

Missy came out greater than, the common man

and to this day NO EQUAL

No prequels or sequels, she stands alone as Mr. Holland’s Opus

out of my boombox speaker, the dopeness

sits on her vocal chords with double dutch as the focus

with the same turn of phrase around the way girls turn rope with

Miss E is every element that makes up WHOA.

All you gotta say is Missy Elliott. GO!

and she’ll sum up everything you know

in a sum of all flows, legendary, classic, and soon to be

She raps on 5 MICS EVERY SINGLE NIGHT WE

SALUTE YOU MISSY.

Word is bond you speak the gospel

and those who seek the real are your people

Sitting on the Summit of the Church’s Steeple

the higher power, hits you with the highest of fives to tag you in

clue you in, on this world we live in

blood of the holy ghost fills your pen

as your BIC serves as a lit wick

a live grenade with a pulled Clip

Writing on the wall and Egypt’s hieroglyph 

She’s one of the wonders of the world

Wonder Woman who inspired the Beautiful minds of Wonderful girls

9th & Stevie Wonder how this self made pearl

Transformed from a grain of sand

Out of captivity, busted open the clam

Decided not to sink, she cemented the sand

in order to stand on the world’s greatest stage

just to talk to the players

Miss E. The lyrical Soothsayer

Missy the walking dead & Vampire slayer

Has always been brilliant in the light

Simultaneously a day walker and Queen of the night

She is something special to behold

Earned her stripes she too sings America 

AND

She does it for all our Langston “Hues”

She’s Harlem Renaissance and Miss Ceily Blues

She’s The Color Purple and a Royal Point of View

The Princess Di of our hip hop

The lucky 7 on the di the hip hop

She’s Brown Suga on the corner that we cop

new and old hip hop spinning on a cardboard box

in the borough of Brooklyn

She’s the clash of two titans out of the borough of Brooklyn

she’s Juicy and reasonable doubt

she’s ETHER and No DOUBT

and I’ll rock with that all day long

She’s Semper Fidelis and Army strong

she’s air force fly, and Cool water gone

She’s not just the General, but the whole damn Navy

She’s the biscuit, the sop, and of course the gravy

she’s a sophisticated complex FIRST lady

with a head of state’s  mind

She’s Misdemeanor of the most notorious kind

but can’t be defined by the masses

Mista soul and blackberry molasses

Heatwave, Spinner, and Adidas Classic

She’s a beast, call her REX JURASSIC

and although her arms are too short to box with OZ

she and the higher power are never at odds

she’s the lullaby that rocked baby girl’s boat 

before she sent back to GOD

with the flysheet pair of wings any angel has ever seen

Mountain High, and River Deep

She’s the wake up in yo cut, Janet Jack’s NO SLEEP

Misdemeanor turns to Miss Tina, turning turntables that turns out arenas

Missy, Missed her, leaner 

Misty Mr. Meaner

Misty 

Mrs.

Misty Blue Steamer

This is my ode

a letter

to the Don Diva.