I flex on this shit

Don’t call me a rookie, my first song was a hit.

Bruh, we say African to the World.

This is the spoken word.

I’m a poet.

E fun mi ni Moet.

They wanted to kill my dreams

Look at me bursting to the seams.

You say wow, damn!

That was hot mahn.

Baby o Baby o Baby o

No forget say na you be my Omoge for Campus

I was your island cruise, that Year in Campos

When I dey ground zero

na you dey for my side

When the storms left me on my backside

You were the angel that calmed the tide

As I enter cloud nine na you be my shero,

sit down in this beamer make we ride

This crown isn’t for sale for two shillings…

Can’t you see the Black King blooming like fresh lilies

Call me the fiery lion, you won’t be wrong to say the greatest

Boy so good, just call me the brightest…

I no dey sing song,

No com dey loud my gong…

You’re my baby

Don’t laugh this off as a crude joke…

My words so sweet no be fable…

I go love you scatter, I’m a sweet bloke…

I’m not a player, I won’t break this table

Baby o Baby o Baby o

No forget say na you be my Omoge for Campus

Mo waka waka ni Campos on the Island

When I dey ground zero

na you dey for my side

When the storms left me on my backside

You were the angel that calmed the tide

As I enter cloud nine na you be my shero,

sit down in this beamer make we ride

Our love go dey stable.

Not a crude joke, joke, joke, joke

©️ Tolu’ A. Akinyemi



My first ever attempt at song writing. Hit or Miss, let me know your thoughts.

Photo by Thuyen Ngo on Unsplash