The Dissection

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Dimeji

Sabur Oladimeji "Dimeji" Bankole (born 14 November 1969) is a Nigerian politician who served as the 11th Speaker of the House of Representatives of Nigeria. Elected at the age of 37, he is the youngest Speaker in the history of Nigeria. He was the Action Democratic Party candidate in the 2019 Ogun State gubernatorial election. more »

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Soul is sometimes defined as the essence of the human spirit
In the popular music of the 1960s, soul meant something more tangible
It was a shout of joy, a cry of pain and an emblem of uninhibited self-expression
Dreams of living big, la vida loca
Peep the return of the Phoenix mistaken for a joker
I wear my heart on my sleeve, I pump the music
The pulse in my wrist will circulate the flow and make me breathe
I came from dough, celebrate my roots without the trees
The pen my weapon, you get to stepping, it’s rest in peace
Black excellence, I separate the sentiments
Inspect the failed experiments of military regiments
Historical facts that sent us back to the exodus
Blacks Jews that drop Jewels, it’s unprecedent
The dreamer, the prima of the underachievers
Shadow boxing of Sun Tzu make an overnight believer
With balls of Vegeta
It means nothing in this world that make your soul grow cold like Frieza
Pull the lever, I’m changing the game
Yeah, my shit about to drop, it’s silence
As they scream for me to drop diamonds like Cassandra Cain
Let me spit another verse for ya
Let me dissect who the best, you bring the best lawyer
Then maybe we could get a judge to oversee the case
Prolly' call the police 'cause normally they chase
B I leave no trace
My sentences is sentences of murder
Boy I could go to jail for the things that I though of
Boy I could write in Braille if they wanna feel the product
Niggas bang for the Rolex as they rob for the Prada
On social media they all Aphemia for all the cheers and likes
That’s how I know you'll sell your soul for a pair of Nikes
I ain’t better, I’m lost on the path to the afterlife
Don’t wanna be fresh to death, yeah I wanna be fresh to paradise
On the steps after Christ, when my wealth maximise
The conundrum of the cake that we chase in the slice of life
It means nothing when you buried in the lonely ground
Wishing for a holy ground, pray my homies hold me down
Yeah
The dissection, the perfection, yeah!

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