Ọkara mmadụ, ọkara mmụọ
Shebi na still six feet we go chill
Whether na ọkara mmụọ, ọkara mmadụ
Shebi na still six feet we go chill
We go chill, we go chill
After the hustle and the struggle we go chill
We go chill, we go chill
After the hustle and the struggle we go chill
Mhmm, six feet
Dem no dey tell person, six feet
Mhmm, six feet
Dem no dey tell person, six feet
I used to write lyrics from a Walkman (what?)
The batteries are down, can you work, man? (Uh huh)
It goes under the sun till it’s charged, man (on God)
Funny life then, felt like sh#t was right then (don’t play no games)
Going through my notes in my notepad (what, what?)
Looking for some lines and some lyrics I wrote down (that’s right, that’s right)
I’m tryna sell records and not my soul (Uh huh)
Shout out to 50, 007 ain’t seen eight bullets
The boy is hard, the pressure made me a diamond
Oh Lord, see smoke, nwanne wetakwa nylon make we pack
Nothing dey for this world wey dey full belle
Na why Chika get belle
Who give am, Otubelle (for real, for real)
Ọkara mmadụ, ọkara mmụọ
Shebi na still six feet we go chill
Whether na ọkara mmụọ, ọkara mmadụ
Shebi na still six feet we go chill
We go chill, we go chill
After the hustle and the struggle we go chill
We go chill, we go chill
After the hustle and the struggle we go chill
Mhmm, six feet
Dem no dey tell person, six feet
Mhmm, six feet
Dem no dey tell person, six feet
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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