9 My Oga God, make Yu sorry for mi, bikos I dey pass thru pain as I dey kry and my body and soul dey die dey go.
Bikos E dey happy with mi, E help mi wen I dey trobol kon save mi.
My eyes don swell-up bikos of kry; my body don tin like broom.
Some sidan for where dark pass and dem shain dem with iron,
God reward mi, bikos I do wetin dey rite; E bring mi kom back, bikos I dey innocent and
I porshu my enemies kon katch dem and I nor stop until I distroy dem finish.
Wi don faint for groun kon sleep for dirty.
Sofa don make my eyes blind. My eyes dey weak, bikos of my enemies.
di vow wey I tok with my mout and my lip wen I dey trobol.
Na only trobol I dey always get and evry morning dey kause pain for mi.”
My body fit fail and my spirit fit weak, but na God dey make my heart strong; na-im bi my own forever.
My own tears don blind my eyes. My God, evriday I dey beg make Yu kom help mi; I lift my hand to Yu make Yu sorry for mi.
Naw, awa eyes dey pain us well-well, bikos wi dey wait for pipol to kom help us. But wi just dey wait for nor-tin, bikos dem nor go fit help us.
Bikos of dis, wi dey feel pain and wi nor dey si well again; awa eyes don dey weak, bikos wi don kry taya.