4 My heart dey beat for my chest and bikos of deat, I kon dey fear.
Shimei curse am dey sey, “Make yu get out! I sey make yu dey go! Yu wey kill pipol! Wiked man!
bikos deat kover mi like klot and di fear to die go grave, dey make mi shake. Na only sorrow and trobol I dey si.
Dia wahala don break my bones. Dem dey laf dey sey, “Where dat yor God dey sef?”
I dey fear well-well. Na how e go tey rish, before Yu go kon save mi?
Dia curse dey pain and e dey make my heart kut; I dey look for who go tell mi sorry, but I nor si. I dey find who go konfort mi, but I still nor si anybody.
bikos na so-so trobol full my life and deat don near mi well-well.
“My heart heavy well-well. Wetin I go tok? ‘Papa, make yu save mi from dis tin wey won happen’? No! Na dis tin make mi kom dis world.
Wen Jesus still dey dis eart, e pray and kry to God wey go save am from deat. God hear en prayers, bikos e obey God for evritin.