Trobol gada round mi and I nor fit kount dem! My sins don many well-well and I nor sure sey I go fit dey free from dem! Dem many pass di hair wey dey my head and I don lost all my hope.
But wen e si all di good tins wey en sofa bring, belle go sweet am. My savant wey I like well-well, go bear plenty pipol ponishment and I go forgive dem bikos of am.
E know all my sins; so E put dem togeda kon hang and tie dem round my neck. I weak well-well, bikos my sins too heavy. God don make my enemies strong pass mi and I nor fit do dem anytin.
If dem chop any one for di third day, God nor go asept di man ofrin. God nor go favor en and di ofrin, bikos e nor dey klean and anybody wey chop am go sofa di ponishment.