de fall of man broda na de street na dem coz am, i rise again u nor fit spoil all my hypotient, I pray to God make e grant me dat street talent, from here to morocco i don miss my free ticket, Brod a drop down, make who nor collect still collect streets earn, I dey ikorodu dey catch up my free exile, who nor no den go soon hear, make dem testify, I be de don don i don't recruit from beans to Benz. u go hear de story broda nor dey complain for me, I get two dollars u go fit change am for pounds for me, I nor dey do well so make u show me way forward, but instead u push me enter inside DAT name wayward I nor care anymore u go reporte give mama, hustle blind but u wen e dey hustle become dumb, I don decline, i nor fit continue from two hundred, u don dey turns up u wan become person papa, I pray to God make e give u heart of man to have .