These fleshy hunger pangs, could leave the mind blind.
Quite often the seeds the word since sowed, get crushed because I’m on my grind.
“My brother hustle o, that money we dey find”
quick to forget the search I’m in is of a kingdom kind.
to choose Christ, is not really to choose
I remember thinking what it is am I even to lose
earthly offers are rather vain, and merely a ruse
the Godfather made an offer I couldn’t refuse.