A love note I found from Indie to Harlem.....

This one is for Harlem with the boxin' system
Ears down, Runnin with the coolin' system
When she come up in the yard, she be wigglin' up
Got stacks on deck like she jumpin up

And she ill, she real, she might got a deal
She pop milkbones and she got the big kind of build
She fun, she dope, she plays tug-o-war with rope
She always in the air, She's been my fly coach

She a muthalovin trip, trip, sailor of the ship, ship
When she drools she make it drip, drip kiss anyone on the lip, lip
That's the kind of friend I was lookin' for
And yes you'll get lapped if you're yellin so...

I said, excuse me you're a hell of a dog
I mean my, my, my, my you're like butterfly, fly
I mean, you're so shy and I'm loving your sigh
You're like slicker than the dog with the thing on his eye, oh

Yes I did, yes I did
Somebody please tell her who the ruff I is
I am Indie two I smack them dogs up
Back wiggle butts up, and chuck the toys up

Harlem you got my tail be waggin' away
Hearts beatin like a drum and it's coming your way
Can't you hear that boom, badoom, boom
Boom, badoom, boom bass?

She got that jowel face
Boom, badoom, boom
Boom, badoom, boom bass
Yeah that's thats Indie's pace










Seriously folks...... I don't know where she comes up with this stuff.