₦airaland Forum

nice one dear

Moving on, up and about,
From east to west, north to south,
Through Lagos, with each street a tout
To Abuja, with politicians, money and their mouth
Ladies at each junction and roundabout
Rolling their eyes and seductively their lips pout
I’ve come to love 9ja more, about it there’s no doubt.

It is a love so pure,
It is a love so sure,
Ailments and loneliness, cure,
Time and distance, endure

Therefore I’ve taken the time to insure
Against hurt, pains and torture
In that sacred rule “not to injure”
Or pervasively and wickedly lure”




The labors of my palms,
The toils under the sun in the farm,
I’ll sit to enjoy under the fan,
My plantains, fry in the pan,
The yams full and plenty in the barn

Yes! I’ll toil like a man,
Hustle like a man,
And I’ll enjoy like a man,
Sipping my beer, like a big boy, from a can,
My ladies, take out in my van,
To a sunny picnic, so they’ll their skin tan.

I will have nothing my plans foil,
I’ve done ma part and share of the toil,
Haven’t I tilled the soil?
So, hmm, finger licking, my chicken I’ll broil
Ha Ha Ha the rice will boil,
Is it not time? I’ll the nuts and joints of my life oil,
I can fill it, watch and see a big boy uncoil,
Ha ha ha, am I not a son of the soil?

BTT:
@Cbase

I see you still spit fire

Hey B, yeah I still spit fire, na God.
tis a thing i like doing when am and not bored.

stillwater:
Aww, you just put a smile on my face

thanks, dats the idea

To Candide

Dear One Candide,
your words to me were truly candid.

I spit Rhymes faster than chics Spend dough
So you said, Candide, I've got dough too, though,
I don't know whether to look on it as my friend or foe.
True it has kept me far from farmlands, cutlass and hoe
took me to school, to books, pencil and Biro.

Still it isn't everything
I've got it, but my memory, my worries have kept thin
I pray my father, when he gets to know, forgives me of this Sin
because i don't want to rule or lead a thing.


About that Coup, Candide tell me more,
though I know it won't work, because am a royal blood to the core
Coup in my town is a word only heard in folklore
you know stuffs like that, stories 'bout The Tortoise and the wisdom it bore.


It still sits there, The Throne
In its Majesty, engulfing, I know to it am prone
Since I can't get ma Heir-ship Blown
all I ask, you guys never leave me alone,
indulge me even if it means everyday having a party thrown.

who knows, maybe I'm just scared and would make a great king when I'm all grown
and have ma Dad all his kingly and great secrets shown,
But till then, with ma Rhymes, Candide, to the rhythm I've flown,
to that secret alcove within where art is polished bright and as in the days of Shakespeare shone.

Nice with Suspension, keep it up dear