There lies one across the metropolis
Whose woman those rags and the police
Crawl their itchy filthy fingers and dirty boots
Through and you would agree with me if you’re tested in my foot’s
Wait before you is beginning there
Me, too, I aba, I could shares my experience
You mean Aba women would be slots for sure, to your sense
Shey…? See, let me tell you, Yoruba ones are gutters
Dirty rolls at Ajegunle from dusk to its death and in Ota’s
The shames ehn, hugging them here hug them there, there and there
I will rather remain stupid and celibate to have a gutter to give me her butter
And you too think you are all right right?
Let me finish you you all are witches in the Riverine there, fight!
It is all true to us all here and our ladies are not sold
in price. You have bitten cuss having remarked to scold
Recap sentential nonsense you fool, thieves you all are and lazier too
Ants mock yourselves, chai… our women are God sent and that is true
Who would be fanatic and are pregnant of death
when they release, they died together and we all mourn with their
wreath They are industrious okay, I’m East… and yes our bride price
is insane And yet this teaches what my friend? Sane?
Okay, let us look at it from this side
You supply us what? Hide?
I supply you with what huh? Tell us would you not? What? Business
habitude? You supply us with what huh?
I am the pen of her heart huh…
I can write her and make her merry whilst you all chase
inconsistencies as you Braga The same pen with which you doctor a/c to
And who amongst we here do not do that thieves?
Thieves we all are and we should not intermarry the Beefs.