| Waiting to be rich, rip it to pieces
|
| What do we sing now? |
| Close to the deadline
|
| No one remembers, shoulder to shoulder
|
| We are pretenders, making the headlines
|
| Signal the weekend, waiting they like eh
|
| No other reason, tangled and frozen
|
| No turning back oooooh, get set and ready
|
| Greater dey numbers
|
| The colour of money, trigger the lightning
|
| The kids in the bedroom, waiting for harvest
|
| Strong as a cutlass, guilty of nothing
|
| Botched operation, witnessing something
|
| Don’t you turn my home against me
|
| Even if my house is empty
|
| Don’t you turn my home against me
|
| Even if my house is empty
|
| Don’t you turn my home against me
|
| Even if my house is empty
|
| Don’t you turn my home against me
|
| Even if my house is empty
|
| Don’t you turn my home against me |