Emphatically seems like it your last trip,
With everyone high on top speed,
Small plies and the Big flies
Voom! You hear,
And you rest in the journey of your shadow.
Gbam! It follows
Just with a tip of mistake.
Fire or deep cry pans the air,
Like a tilting camera
Due to it never ending massacre.
Lovely, I called it the highway to world war 3.
Worse than a time bomb ready to explode,
Putting the heart in mouth
As you pass the test of life and death,
With the panting thought Of “Eni ori yo, o di le”,
Due to this Billy traps way.
Wicked you are,
you’ve sent too many to their early grave.
Yet never tired of eating flesh or blood,
Denying many Lagos sojourner the effort of going or coming home,
Because lies you is the beginning of knowledge.
And a journey to deepest rest.