I have observed recently, the gradual gravitation from the filtered stick to the hand-rolled stick. By this I don't mean the normal hand-rolled cigarettes, I mean weeed. Yes, weed, grass, pot, marijuana, cannabis, ganja...etc.(Its got so many names, only God seems to have more) You know... In fact I wonder at times if I'm the only person who doesn't take the stuff; it seems like everybody
has now seen the "light", and I (and a few other people) are still languishing in darkness.
I'm sure somebody who's reading this might be able to relate to this. The fact that weed consumption is increasingly popular doesn't necessarily mean it is right, but then, the fact that it is illegal doesn't mean it is wrong.
I really don't know who started this new weed wave, or the peeps who influenced this paradigm shift but it seems I began to notice it shortly after Mr. Abolore whats-his-surname (9ice) released that his
"Ganja" song. I felt it. You also probably did. But it seems some dudes were not just okay with dancing to the song, they wanted to be able to relate personally to the lyrics...well, so they put the song to practice.
Who cares? The only certain thing is, its obvious that the dope-stick has now become the pope-of-sticks, at least as far as I can see.
Now if the above assertion is true, the important issue now is whether or not this rise in weed intake is good, not-so good, or just plain bad. I'm actually beginning to sound too much like a student of criminology, which I am; but is the criminalization of the use of cannabis in line with social realities?
I'm not exactly an advocate of the marijuana lobby, but then, if the people want it, let them have it! Or aren't laws supposed to b people oriented? Boys sucking on some inspireeashan (inspiration) don't want to be disturbed, plus its a frigging cash crop, so why don't those politicians just stop being silly and...LEGALIZE IT!!!
Please pardon me if you feel I'm talking bull...ish, but I just saw the trend and thought I should comment on it. Y'all can also feel free to comment...
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
IS TIME MONEY?: A twisted perspective
Here I'm just attempting to have a go at one of those sayings which have become established as absolute truths in human societies all over the world...Time is Money. Is it? Is time really, perfectly and absolutely equal to money? Mind you, the literal interpretation of the said phrase is that time is one and the same thing as money. Good. I was never any good at mathematics, but if you were to represent that mathematically, it would be time = money. In other words money would not only be a valid substitute for time in any equation (situation), but would also bear the same value as money. Transplant that into real life and it would imply that the terms "money" and "time" are just two words which refer to the same thing, and that whoever has time, has money and vice-versa. It is at this point that I will take my first shot at that well worn expression.
If time truly IS money, how come I don't have money? How come the thousands of unemployed youths (and even the not-so-youthful) don't have money? Next thing you'll probably say is that they don't make effective use of their time, right? But then, the fact that I'm not spending my money well doesn't mean I don't have it! Or lets look at it from another angle; everybody has the same number of hours per day, so why doesn't everybody's bank account have the same amount of money in them? Or aren't time and money supposed to be the same thing?? Money is supposed to be relatively scarce (I learnt that from secondary school economics) but time is not, every person has it in sufficient quantities. DO THEY ACCEPT TIME AT THE STORES??? NO!
Okay, you are still stuck on this your "time is money" principle, and you believe my reasoning is faulty, good. If time is the same as money, then time should be a valid substitute for money in ALL instances, but this, my dear, is not the case. There are some emotions that money cannot provoke, which time can.
I believe in the near omnipotence of money, but I know doesn't extend to some aspects of life. In fact, I'm speaking for money, (despite the fact that I don't have it) because, with money you can buy time, but it doesn't cut both ways - always.
I'm not sure why I'm writing this, but I guess it's because I'm bored, not-rich-enough and I've got a lot of time on my hands! So, time can't be equal to money; we're all born with time on our hands, but no one is born with money...so? OK, I think I get it now, some peoples' time is worth more than some other peeps time, is it. AM I SOUNDING CRAZY??? That shouldn't be the case if time is equal to money. If, for instance, 1 hour is equal to 1 million dollars, then everybody should have 24 million dollars per day, just for being alive. Equal amounts of time should translate to equal amounts of money. That way, there'd be no "richest man in the world". Or am I wrong?
You know, all this back and forth that I've been carrying on with doesn't necessarily define my stand or my honest sincere views. I could as well provide you with an even stronger argument in favor of the same statement. It's dumb stuff like this Plato, Aristotle et al, got us getting ourselves worked up over. That's what they got their money and fame from...talking lame trash and summing it up in a sentence or phrase like "TIME IS MONEY"
P.S: Please do not laugh at me... I'm not over the edge...yet!
If time truly IS money, how come I don't have money? How come the thousands of unemployed youths (and even the not-so-youthful) don't have money? Next thing you'll probably say is that they don't make effective use of their time, right? But then, the fact that I'm not spending my money well doesn't mean I don't have it! Or lets look at it from another angle; everybody has the same number of hours per day, so why doesn't everybody's bank account have the same amount of money in them? Or aren't time and money supposed to be the same thing?? Money is supposed to be relatively scarce (I learnt that from secondary school economics) but time is not, every person has it in sufficient quantities. DO THEY ACCEPT TIME AT THE STORES??? NO!
Okay, you are still stuck on this your "time is money" principle, and you believe my reasoning is faulty, good. If time is the same as money, then time should be a valid substitute for money in ALL instances, but this, my dear, is not the case. There are some emotions that money cannot provoke, which time can.
I believe in the near omnipotence of money, but I know doesn't extend to some aspects of life. In fact, I'm speaking for money, (despite the fact that I don't have it) because, with money you can buy time, but it doesn't cut both ways - always.
I'm not sure why I'm writing this, but I guess it's because I'm bored, not-rich-enough and I've got a lot of time on my hands! So, time can't be equal to money; we're all born with time on our hands, but no one is born with money...so? OK, I think I get it now, some peoples' time is worth more than some other peeps time, is it. AM I SOUNDING CRAZY??? That shouldn't be the case if time is equal to money. If, for instance, 1 hour is equal to 1 million dollars, then everybody should have 24 million dollars per day, just for being alive. Equal amounts of time should translate to equal amounts of money. That way, there'd be no "richest man in the world". Or am I wrong?
You know, all this back and forth that I've been carrying on with doesn't necessarily define my stand or my honest sincere views. I could as well provide you with an even stronger argument in favor of the same statement. It's dumb stuff like this Plato, Aristotle et al, got us getting ourselves worked up over. That's what they got their money and fame from...talking lame trash and summing it up in a sentence or phrase like "TIME IS MONEY"
P.S: Please do not laugh at me... I'm not over the edge...yet!
Bad Is Good
Two Sundays ago, my Dad went to church dressed in a beautiful black suit with a white shirt and a black bow tie (I won't expressly refer to it as a tuxedo) and he looked absolutely resplendent in the well-tailored outfit which perfectly complemented his already impressive looks.
Just in case you aren't aware, my Dad is a preacher, so as he mounted the pulpit to deliver the Word (note I didn't say 'the sermon'), he was the cynosure of all eyes, and I doubt it was simply because they eager to receive the divine message...especially the females, you need to have seen how they hung on to every single word that was spewed from his lips. I mean, when he-who-is-greater-than-George Clooney (let me prop my Pop, jare) stands before a hall jam-packed with more women than men folk, you can try to picture the attention he'll command.
All eyes trailed him as he paced back and forth - with that unique swagger that only men of his distinguished caliber possess - around the auditorium, 'rightly dividing the Word of Truth with a mastery stemming from in-depth study and divine revelation, and ministering in the Spirit with power. (if you aren't really familiar with church lingua, you may be quite lost here).
However that's not even what I want to talk about in this piece; all that was just to provide some background and get you interested in this thought (it may seem inane to some) which crossed my mind exactly 28 minutes ago. The thought simply is; what has befallen our vocabulary? What have we done with the rules of grammar and nuances of diction and word usage? Mind you, I'm not even referring to the "as in", "I was like" syndrome here.
Now that's plain boring, so let's get back to my story. After the service, I went to my Dad's (actually the bishop's) office to tell him how much I enjoyed the service, and how gorgeous his outfit looked. I said; "Daddy, the service today was bad, like...baaad!" I continued, "the message was mad, and your outfit just killed everyone, it was very tight". His fiftyish handsome face became a frown (he seems to respect my opinion), and he said; "Joba, what do you mean by 'mad', 'bad' and 'tight'? The power of God was present and I believe people were blessed, so what are you saying? Or was there a problem with the message? Then you said my suit was tight, ko de fun mi o..."
Smiling, I cut in; "No Dad, that wasn't what I meant o! I was just trying to say that I really enjoyed the service, the atmosphere was electrifying. As for your suit, it is a perfect fit, very sweet and lovely. I didn't mean that there was a problem with it, ko si problem kankan o". He sighed and said; "Are you sure?" I replied in the affirmative with a nod. He then said; "I don't understand your generation and its manner of speech; it seems with you people, bad is good". I just smiled weakly and said nothing, dismissing his views in my mind as one of those "you children of nowadays" speeches.
But 52 minutes ago, when I saw a 'baad' EOD go past me on the road, the thought just struck me again: "Bad is Good"...that's quite true these days especially considering that
'Ill' is good.
'Sick' is sometimes good.
'Dope' is sooo good.
'Mad' is good.
'Bad' is almost always good.
There are some others too, only they aren't just coming to me now, they come only when I want to speak to my Dad.
I just hope this linguistic decay doesn't stretch or extend into the realm of our moral principles, too. Hell, it already has. A look at the current social structure and value system will show that so many facets of public and private morality have become so warped that bad, to a great extent, has become good. I am already feeling dizzy from spending too long staring this screen, so I will not give instances...but if you really need some, look inwards, you'll see you're twisted, too. Anyhow, who cares if bad is good sef? "Any which ways, it's all good". Hahaha.
P.S: Y'all see what ASUU is doing to me o!!! Someone save my mind from going down. Abi na up? Whatever. AWWWW!!!...
Just in case you aren't aware, my Dad is a preacher, so as he mounted the pulpit to deliver the Word (note I didn't say 'the sermon'), he was the cynosure of all eyes, and I doubt it was simply because they eager to receive the divine message...especially the females, you need to have seen how they hung on to every single word that was spewed from his lips. I mean, when he-who-is-greater-than-George Clooney (let me prop my Pop, jare) stands before a hall jam-packed with more women than men folk, you can try to picture the attention he'll command.
All eyes trailed him as he paced back and forth - with that unique swagger that only men of his distinguished caliber possess - around the auditorium, 'rightly dividing the Word of Truth with a mastery stemming from in-depth study and divine revelation, and ministering in the Spirit with power. (if you aren't really familiar with church lingua, you may be quite lost here).
However that's not even what I want to talk about in this piece; all that was just to provide some background and get you interested in this thought (it may seem inane to some) which crossed my mind exactly 28 minutes ago. The thought simply is; what has befallen our vocabulary? What have we done with the rules of grammar and nuances of diction and word usage? Mind you, I'm not even referring to the "as in", "I was like" syndrome here.
Now that's plain boring, so let's get back to my story. After the service, I went to my Dad's (actually the bishop's) office to tell him how much I enjoyed the service, and how gorgeous his outfit looked. I said; "Daddy, the service today was bad, like...baaad!" I continued, "the message was mad, and your outfit just killed everyone, it was very tight". His fiftyish handsome face became a frown (he seems to respect my opinion), and he said; "Joba, what do you mean by 'mad', 'bad' and 'tight'? The power of God was present and I believe people were blessed, so what are you saying? Or was there a problem with the message? Then you said my suit was tight, ko de fun mi o..."
Smiling, I cut in; "No Dad, that wasn't what I meant o! I was just trying to say that I really enjoyed the service, the atmosphere was electrifying. As for your suit, it is a perfect fit, very sweet and lovely. I didn't mean that there was a problem with it, ko si problem kankan o". He sighed and said; "Are you sure?" I replied in the affirmative with a nod. He then said; "I don't understand your generation and its manner of speech; it seems with you people, bad is good". I just smiled weakly and said nothing, dismissing his views in my mind as one of those "you children of nowadays" speeches.
But 52 minutes ago, when I saw a 'baad' EOD go past me on the road, the thought just struck me again: "Bad is Good"...that's quite true these days especially considering that
'Ill' is good.
'Sick' is sometimes good.
'Dope' is sooo good.
'Mad' is good.
'Bad' is almost always good.
There are some others too, only they aren't just coming to me now, they come only when I want to speak to my Dad.
I just hope this linguistic decay doesn't stretch or extend into the realm of our moral principles, too. Hell, it already has. A look at the current social structure and value system will show that so many facets of public and private morality have become so warped that bad, to a great extent, has become good. I am already feeling dizzy from spending too long staring this screen, so I will not give instances...but if you really need some, look inwards, you'll see you're twisted, too. Anyhow, who cares if bad is good sef? "Any which ways, it's all good". Hahaha.
P.S: Y'all see what ASUU is doing to me o!!! Someone save my mind from going down. Abi na up? Whatever. AWWWW!!!...
Sunday, September 27, 2009
HELP, MY WIFE DOES NOT LOVE ME!!!
Dear Agony Aunt,
I write this, out of deep frustration, despair and irritation at this unpleasant vortex in which I find myself. I am a married man. That ordinarily should be good news, for marriage is a beautiful experience which is usually characterized by bliss, joy and harmony. It is a life-long union in which each party should serve as a pillar of strength and love for the other. This, however is not the case for me,for though I am a married man, my soul is sorely vexed with displeasure at the woman I call my wife. My heart aches deep within me, for I am, like many others, a party to an unhappy marriage that seems to be headed for the rocks. I am a man for whom the bliss of marriage has been transformed into a living hell, and these nuptial knots have become chains of angst and pain.
I love my wife, or at least I'd like to convince myself that I do. My marriage is the biggest source of pain for me these days, seeing how sour it has become. It is no longer the joyful period in the life of a man which it should be. For me, nothing seems to be going right in this excuse for a marriage in which I have found myself trapped. Agony, if I had known it would be this bad, I'd rather have ignored everyone's opinion and remained a bachelor for the rest of my life. It may seem extreme to you, but that is exactly how I feel at this moment.
I am married to a woman who seems not to care in the slightest bit about my feelings; she, as it were, ignores me. She seems to have no iota of love, for me, and seems to just be tolerating me. She pays no attention to my needs and desires. She cares little about my dreams, hopes and aspirations. My future is not exactly her favorite topic, and she never makes any effort to conceal that fact. Now, it may appear as if I’m just going on about my worries and fears, but the picture I am painting is grossly downplayed, such that all the high-colors of pain and anguish are not even being exactly portrayed.
My heart hurts, yes it does. It palpitates with severe aches; aches sprouting from my fears for my spouse and the relationship we have. I'd say treasure all we share, but the premium I place on our union is not in any way being mirrored by this woman to whom I'm married. For instance, she is absolutely indifferent about my current jobless, suspended state – no viable employment or profitable engagement, and she switches the issue every time I bring it up. I know she can help out, but she has not even pretended to be helping out, and that speaks volumes.
That is bad enough, but the way she treats my friends and relations leaves so much to be desired. My brother in Port-Harcourt complains frequently about her unkind behavior towards him, and he has already taken his complaints to another level; employing violence to protest and show his disenchantment with the way she behaves. Even my aged mother – who surprisingly is not even troublesome anymore – seems to be silently enduring all her uncouth manners, for she always declines to comment whenever anyone comes up with the topic of my wife’s badly irresponsible behavior.
Agony Aunt, it appears that this woman does not love me anymore - she probably never did - even though we happen to be legally married and still live together. My father foisted this woman on me, though I must admit (she is aware, too) that if only I was firmer and more deliberate with my objection to the marriage, we wouldn't be married. It is annoying beyond measure that the same man who forced her on me now seems to be silent about misbehavior. Hell, that's in the past, I was wrong, but what can I do?I have been advised to take a new wife to replace her (I plan to do so soon anyway), but what difference will that make? How am I certain that the new wife will not be as bad, if not worse than this lady with whom I currently reside (it hurts me to refer to her as my wife)?
This woman is inhumanly obdurate when it comes to expressing her views on any issue on which we have differing opinions. My wife, who is supposed to be submissive to me, her husband and crowning jewel, is practically now my boss. At times I wonder what happened to the vows she made on our wedding day at the Eagle Square. She either gets her way, or leaves me to my own devices, paying no heed to at all to me or my wishes. Worst of all, she has totally abandoned her wifely duties; she doesn’t cook my meals anymore so I have to eat out (usually I just send Emeka, my younger brother to purchase food from the food-seller across the road). This is the only option I'm left with, seeing as she has completely abandoned her role as a home-maker.
By the way, my wife is an appalling spendthrift. I really can’t tell if she’s misappropriating the feeding money, but I heard from a legion of reliable sources that my wife is building a massive house in another town of which I am absolutely unaware (or so she thinks). I also suspect that she’s been unfaithful to me, I have no proof of this…it’s just a blind suspicion, but I guess that’s explicable in view of the fact she’s a pathological liar and I do not trust her any more. This woman will have absolutely no qualms selling me out, I'm sure. Or maybe I’m just paranoid, who knows?
As I write this, my eyes well with bitter tears of agony and my heart feels flaccid, like a sapped orange…for I am wringing out of my heart, the secret (and not-so-secret) sorrows with which it has been engorged for so long. I was once okay with this woman, but now I am fed up, and whatever feelings I once had are fast being transmuted into hateful emotions. People keep saying that I am a weak man, lacking the nerve and courage to stand up to my wife and either kick her out of the house, or forcefully ensure that she effects changes in her lifestyle, but I don't want trouble, so what can I do? Should I just remain patient, like I have been all these years and maintain the status quo, or should I stand up, be a man and make things change for the better, and in doing so stir up a domestic revolution? Please Agony Aunt, your advice at this point is like a drop of water on the tip of the tongue of the rich man in the lake of fire – desperately needed.
P.S: I am aware that my letter may be too long to be published in your column, but I just had to pour out my heart, hope you do not mind too much. By the way I’d rather remain anonymous, but if initials are required, these would do: N.I.G. from Africa. If you so wish, you can reach me on +234-000-644-3742.
I write this, out of deep frustration, despair and irritation at this unpleasant vortex in which I find myself. I am a married man. That ordinarily should be good news, for marriage is a beautiful experience which is usually characterized by bliss, joy and harmony. It is a life-long union in which each party should serve as a pillar of strength and love for the other. This, however is not the case for me,for though I am a married man, my soul is sorely vexed with displeasure at the woman I call my wife. My heart aches deep within me, for I am, like many others, a party to an unhappy marriage that seems to be headed for the rocks. I am a man for whom the bliss of marriage has been transformed into a living hell, and these nuptial knots have become chains of angst and pain.
I love my wife, or at least I'd like to convince myself that I do. My marriage is the biggest source of pain for me these days, seeing how sour it has become. It is no longer the joyful period in the life of a man which it should be. For me, nothing seems to be going right in this excuse for a marriage in which I have found myself trapped. Agony, if I had known it would be this bad, I'd rather have ignored everyone's opinion and remained a bachelor for the rest of my life. It may seem extreme to you, but that is exactly how I feel at this moment.
I am married to a woman who seems not to care in the slightest bit about my feelings; she, as it were, ignores me. She seems to have no iota of love, for me, and seems to just be tolerating me. She pays no attention to my needs and desires. She cares little about my dreams, hopes and aspirations. My future is not exactly her favorite topic, and she never makes any effort to conceal that fact. Now, it may appear as if I’m just going on about my worries and fears, but the picture I am painting is grossly downplayed, such that all the high-colors of pain and anguish are not even being exactly portrayed.
My heart hurts, yes it does. It palpitates with severe aches; aches sprouting from my fears for my spouse and the relationship we have. I'd say treasure all we share, but the premium I place on our union is not in any way being mirrored by this woman to whom I'm married. For instance, she is absolutely indifferent about my current jobless, suspended state – no viable employment or profitable engagement, and she switches the issue every time I bring it up. I know she can help out, but she has not even pretended to be helping out, and that speaks volumes.
That is bad enough, but the way she treats my friends and relations leaves so much to be desired. My brother in Port-Harcourt complains frequently about her unkind behavior towards him, and he has already taken his complaints to another level; employing violence to protest and show his disenchantment with the way she behaves. Even my aged mother – who surprisingly is not even troublesome anymore – seems to be silently enduring all her uncouth manners, for she always declines to comment whenever anyone comes up with the topic of my wife’s badly irresponsible behavior.
Agony Aunt, it appears that this woman does not love me anymore - she probably never did - even though we happen to be legally married and still live together. My father foisted this woman on me, though I must admit (she is aware, too) that if only I was firmer and more deliberate with my objection to the marriage, we wouldn't be married. It is annoying beyond measure that the same man who forced her on me now seems to be silent about misbehavior. Hell, that's in the past, I was wrong, but what can I do?I have been advised to take a new wife to replace her (I plan to do so soon anyway), but what difference will that make? How am I certain that the new wife will not be as bad, if not worse than this lady with whom I currently reside (it hurts me to refer to her as my wife)?
This woman is inhumanly obdurate when it comes to expressing her views on any issue on which we have differing opinions. My wife, who is supposed to be submissive to me, her husband and crowning jewel, is practically now my boss. At times I wonder what happened to the vows she made on our wedding day at the Eagle Square. She either gets her way, or leaves me to my own devices, paying no heed to at all to me or my wishes. Worst of all, she has totally abandoned her wifely duties; she doesn’t cook my meals anymore so I have to eat out (usually I just send Emeka, my younger brother to purchase food from the food-seller across the road). This is the only option I'm left with, seeing as she has completely abandoned her role as a home-maker.
By the way, my wife is an appalling spendthrift. I really can’t tell if she’s misappropriating the feeding money, but I heard from a legion of reliable sources that my wife is building a massive house in another town of which I am absolutely unaware (or so she thinks). I also suspect that she’s been unfaithful to me, I have no proof of this…it’s just a blind suspicion, but I guess that’s explicable in view of the fact she’s a pathological liar and I do not trust her any more. This woman will have absolutely no qualms selling me out, I'm sure. Or maybe I’m just paranoid, who knows?
As I write this, my eyes well with bitter tears of agony and my heart feels flaccid, like a sapped orange…for I am wringing out of my heart, the secret (and not-so-secret) sorrows with which it has been engorged for so long. I was once okay with this woman, but now I am fed up, and whatever feelings I once had are fast being transmuted into hateful emotions. People keep saying that I am a weak man, lacking the nerve and courage to stand up to my wife and either kick her out of the house, or forcefully ensure that she effects changes in her lifestyle, but I don't want trouble, so what can I do? Should I just remain patient, like I have been all these years and maintain the status quo, or should I stand up, be a man and make things change for the better, and in doing so stir up a domestic revolution? Please Agony Aunt, your advice at this point is like a drop of water on the tip of the tongue of the rich man in the lake of fire – desperately needed.
P.S: I am aware that my letter may be too long to be published in your column, but I just had to pour out my heart, hope you do not mind too much. By the way I’d rather remain anonymous, but if initials are required, these would do: N.I.G. from Africa. If you so wish, you can reach me on +234-000-644-3742.
GBONO VERY FELI…
Over the years I've been doing some rap for my personal enjoyment. Recently I decided to do a freestyle on the beat of "Mo gbono feli feli" by D'banj...just for fun. I like it, probably because I'm a huge fan of myself. What I'm not sure of is whether YOU like it, so I decided to post it on my blog and see what whoever has to say about it. As usual, I've got some sweet wordplay, and some metaphors too...really just a blend of everything in a relatively Naija style.
Read it with your eyes, but try to hear it with the ears of your mind...that'll make you did it better.
Err’body did this, said they was handsome
Tell me which of 'em is as handsome as I am
I am, IM-ing the whole game
Asking, Is there any as fly as I am
Don't blaze, yet none's high as I am
I am the game's I am that I am
The illest muthafucker ever grace this beat
Beat it y'all lames, you can't match my firepower
Nuclear warheads, I'm a fucking superpower
Black strong hunk, you can call me Michael Power
When I spit, wack emcees cower
In fear...all 'em cowards kawa
Wawa alright if you drink up my flow
That ain't no surprise, considering how hard I go
Check my fan page, your idol is an admin
Funny thing is, he begged me to add him in
Gbono feli feli is just stating the obvious
I'm the fucking modern fusion of Sango and Morpheus
My flow's mind blowing, more than miraculous
Lyrically strong, call me Samson or Hercules
Naija on my shoulders, I'm her giant Atlas
Need directions, ask me, I'm rap's atlas
I'm the main mean man, many say I'm heartless
Cos fellas are breathless, honeys are braless
Me na bad man, but me not artless
My art’s more than fine, it's drop-dead gorgeous
Yours is pretty ugly, it's flop-dead nauseous
My mind's up here, yours is down there
Your time is up dear, cuz Jay is now here
Learning to fear me, is your first lesson
Plus I be overdosing on divine blessing
That's why I be chopping up, while y'all be lessing
It'd be pure folly fo' anyone to be messing
with me, cuz I'm finger-burning hot like Amala
And my flow's so sick, it could use some Amalar
I make look easy, no stress, no wahala
I'm so hot my gut is full of lava
Now that's understatin', let me restate it
My flow's ultra-violet, violent, devastating
Ultra-sexy LP, he's got divas getting
Stoned on his bone, wetting their panties
When the dawn come, they 'ont know where their pant is
That's how I do, Hov her, then shove her
'Fore you can say P-Square, I say the game's over
Don't get it twisted, I ain't propping the lame brovaz
Cuz I'm the Nicon Hilton, and they's D'Rovans
Asking who's flaming hot, it is I
No that's euphemistic, Heat is I
Don't touch pleease, my heat is high
Any nigga try, I hit his eye
With my mad puchlines, then heat his eye
Till ready to serve, then eat his eye (je oju e)
My shit is fly, you don't wanna compare
I ain’t your peer, rap's top compere
Peerless, Fearless, flow so seamless
Can't connect with this, your fone's so sim-less
My flow's intellectual, mentally tasking
Tall dark dude, so don't know why y'all asking,
Am I, MI-ing the game?
No folks, I'm Hova-ing the game
So feel free to have reasonable doubts
In no time, they'll be unreasonable doubts
See me, steaming like a kettle’s spout (o le nu bi kettle)
I get guys high like I’m extra-stout
I’m fresh out the furnace, I can’t shout
East to West, North to South
I’ve got the whole damn world singing along
Saying they ain’t seen a rapper this hot for long
My place on the thermometer, only few belong
And it’ll be long, before y’all can match this song
Not this year, maybe not the next
Need I say more ‘bout who’s the best?
Hip-hop died giving birth to me
But she really ain’t dead cuz she lives through me
Feel my heat…feel the beat
Gbono very feli!
Read it with your eyes, but try to hear it with the ears of your mind...that'll make you did it better.
Err’body did this, said they was handsome
Tell me which of 'em is as handsome as I am
I am, IM-ing the whole game
Asking, Is there any as fly as I am
Don't blaze, yet none's high as I am
I am the game's I am that I am
The illest muthafucker ever grace this beat
Beat it y'all lames, you can't match my firepower
Nuclear warheads, I'm a fucking superpower
Black strong hunk, you can call me Michael Power
When I spit, wack emcees cower
In fear...all 'em cowards kawa
Wawa alright if you drink up my flow
That ain't no surprise, considering how hard I go
Check my fan page, your idol is an admin
Funny thing is, he begged me to add him in
Gbono feli feli is just stating the obvious
I'm the fucking modern fusion of Sango and Morpheus
My flow's mind blowing, more than miraculous
Lyrically strong, call me Samson or Hercules
Naija on my shoulders, I'm her giant Atlas
Need directions, ask me, I'm rap's atlas
I'm the main mean man, many say I'm heartless
Cos fellas are breathless, honeys are braless
Me na bad man, but me not artless
My art’s more than fine, it's drop-dead gorgeous
Yours is pretty ugly, it's flop-dead nauseous
My mind's up here, yours is down there
Your time is up dear, cuz Jay is now here
Learning to fear me, is your first lesson
Plus I be overdosing on divine blessing
That's why I be chopping up, while y'all be lessing
It'd be pure folly fo' anyone to be messing
with me, cuz I'm finger-burning hot like Amala
And my flow's so sick, it could use some Amalar
I make look easy, no stress, no wahala
I'm so hot my gut is full of lava
Now that's understatin', let me restate it
My flow's ultra-violet, violent, devastating
Ultra-sexy LP, he's got divas getting
Stoned on his bone, wetting their panties
When the dawn come, they 'ont know where their pant is
That's how I do, Hov her, then shove her
'Fore you can say P-Square, I say the game's over
Don't get it twisted, I ain't propping the lame brovaz
Cuz I'm the Nicon Hilton, and they's D'Rovans
Asking who's flaming hot, it is I
No that's euphemistic, Heat is I
Don't touch pleease, my heat is high
Any nigga try, I hit his eye
With my mad puchlines, then heat his eye
Till ready to serve, then eat his eye (je oju e)
My shit is fly, you don't wanna compare
I ain’t your peer, rap's top compere
Peerless, Fearless, flow so seamless
Can't connect with this, your fone's so sim-less
My flow's intellectual, mentally tasking
Tall dark dude, so don't know why y'all asking,
Am I, MI-ing the game?
No folks, I'm Hova-ing the game
So feel free to have reasonable doubts
In no time, they'll be unreasonable doubts
See me, steaming like a kettle’s spout (o le nu bi kettle)
I get guys high like I’m extra-stout
I’m fresh out the furnace, I can’t shout
East to West, North to South
I’ve got the whole damn world singing along
Saying they ain’t seen a rapper this hot for long
My place on the thermometer, only few belong
And it’ll be long, before y’all can match this song
Not this year, maybe not the next
Need I say more ‘bout who’s the best?
Hip-hop died giving birth to me
But she really ain’t dead cuz she lives through me
Feel my heat…feel the beat
Gbono very feli!
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