POORLITCIANS

When I will score score,
Worths not the mark of question,
But when I was lifted,
And laid in that cosy cradle.

Consider not my sanity,
But why, why!
I live amidst mad men,
An answer that has no root in my thought.

It’s in the east of my sun,
Where I was born, baked,
And bred with hard to earn bread,
In a land choking with the dust of flour.

Where the poorlitcians are the Oyomesi,
But they only get to enthrone the crown,
If the crown fails to dance to their tune,
They wait for four years before he choose a calabash.

Poorlitcians,
Companion of corrupt crooks,
Corrupt crooks,
Leaders of the poverty capital,
Poverty capital,
Society for fortunate foolish few.

Poverty capital,
Funding bribery business,
Profiting from pen robbery,
Everlasting Future Crusher Commission, EFCC.

Poorlitcians,
Members of all poorlitical parties,
Exchanging the next four years,
For rice, matches and four hundred naira.

What a life!
The poorlitcians give you a bottle of palm oil,
They request gallons of blood,
In return, what a way to return.

What an infecting impact!
I lost my path,
I lost part of my part,
My back deserves no pat,
For I’ve betrayed my pact.

-Fimishow I The Short