Eiii, chale, listen close
Thirty-two years, no be beans
It is a prayer of a proud mama, yieee!
Nineteen years old, baby boy on my hip
Lectures and diapers, I almost lost my grip
But I hold my head high, I finish the school
Second boy came, but his papa played the fool
I carry my load, I carry my pain
No wedding ring, but I stand in the rain
Ɛyɛ! God dey my side, I no go fail
I build them up when they are low-low-low
But when they rise, they start to show-show-show
Their true colors, giving me attitude, chale!
But I am done with the relationship drama
I just want the bag, the paper, the dollar
Take care of my boys, fly around the world
Proud single mother, we rising, herh!
No more lifting up men who don't deserve my grace
It is my turn to shine, my turn to win this race
Working day and night, securing the future
My boys will look at me and see a champion structure
We go see Paris, we go see London too
Chale, this is my prayer, and it's coming through
I build them up when they are low-low-low
But when they rise, they start to show-show-show
Their true colors, giving me attitude, chale!
But I am done with the relationship drama
I just want the bag, the paper, the dollar
Take care of my boys, fly around the world
Proud single mother, we rising, herh!
No more wahala, only peace
Just my boys and my bag
Yieee, we moving!
Ɛyɛ