Popo stop me 

I fear dem wan to shoot me

Search my bags like say 

He wan to loot me

Comot my 1k and den excuse me

I waka pass cus nobody knows me

If I get benz same nigga 4 don salute me

But, who me?

Son of the soil

Just trying to get through

Trying to live honest

Some days I de chop root

Because dem de kpai fruit

Leader of tomorrow

With foundation wey de near roof

Justice de expensive

Poor man no fit afford rights

Oil on the shores 

Na why de clan only fit to chop rice

All the tailors seem stressed

I don sell my soul

God go punish me keh?

Lol, Shae I look blessed?

I don sell my clothes

I want a cut my own size

Na who get money 

De become bride Prize

Her Ex said she brought nothing to the table

So she started holding tables 

She figured that her figure 8

Could give her eight figures

Big Bold and Large

She de show workings

Made a figure off her back speech 

Yeah, her ass speaks

Let him go

Na our thief

If the accent was different

He 4 don de bleed

I plead the Blood 

Shut up!

Heard you made millions from HIS merchandise

Now now another merchant dies

On top Mary pikin franchise

Congregation rolls like dice

But he Rolls like Royce

Alhamdulilahi

God is rich and

To be poor is a sin

Mongo park

Oil money

Poor people

Hush puppy crowns people

More classrooms

Less headroom

Same lies

Cheap chains

More days

Less years

Work work work work work

Higher pay

Healthier slaves