Den Lot go tell di men wey won marry en dotas sey, “Make una kwik-kwik komot from dis town, bikos God won distroy am!” But dem tink sey Lot dey lie for dem.
Just as dem dey invite pesin for party, na so too Yu invite my enemies and I kon dey fear. For di day wey God dey vex, nobody go fit eskape or survive am. Naw, my enemies don kill all di shidren wey I born and train.
Dat time, e go bad well-well for wimen wey get belle or get small pikin for hand! Strong wahala go kom for dis land and God ponishment go fall for pipol head.