This is a song about "Roses"

Roses are red, violets are blue, god made me pretty, what happened to you?

It feels good putting money in your mailboxi love paying rent when the rent's due

Our children must be taught, of africa

Not the applause or roses thrown in awe

Of better days when you ain't have to settle for whatever played

On a wheelchair upon a bed of roses long decayed

So i guess i’m good naira,yoruba love give em my love

Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,

She doesn't understand the notion, of turning rosaries to roses

When they have kids they haven't seen in years, impressing their peers

I won't comply i wont stand by noses bloody as roses

Tryna make a difference where i'm from, where you live

But in real life they eyes is on your moneysee the enemies will say they true

Roses are red, violets are blue, i have five fingers, the middle one's for you.

U avoid me- u playing ring around the roses!

It's no drought were i be, bitch no police, here's fire wings