Self-Made Monster
[Verse 1: Plasthic Slash]
His dad an engineer, his mum a school teacher
Christian upbringing, a church with good preachers
Two sisters, him an only son
Rumuobiakani, Port Harcourt where the homie's from
While in high school at Enitonia
He began idolising gangs from California
Lumberjacks like Snoop had, doorags in his schoolbag
He loved to hear tools clap, was hungry to shoot gats
He beat niggas blue black, became so unpopular
By SS 3, Eddie was 6' 4" and muscular
No surprise, started lifting weights at twelve
Same age he started sticking babes as well
A year later, him begin blaze the L
Jokes hardly cracked him up, not еven Dave Chappellе's
Hung by himself, thought his classmates were all suckers
All the teachers were scared of the motherfucker
He smoked that cannabis laced with heroin
Any place the fellow in, babes be helloing
Keeping their attention on his frame
Dripping at the mention of his name
He did a few hoes from Holy Rosary
Left some with broken hearts, others with broken ovaries
Fell for a chic from Harbour Road with a heart of gold
Make I leave the razzling parts untold but them start to roll
Peep it, his tale, so many ways to ﬂip it
One day, he saw her strolling, one ogbeni came to visit
She was laughing, falling all over him, couldn't let it go
He grabbed a rock, crept up behind them and struck a deadly blow
She screamed, "What have done to cousin Ethan?"
That's when it dawned on him that Cindy wasn't cheating
Pivoted and sped home, wishing he was a paciﬁst
But paused at his church, conversation with the parish priest
[Hook: Greham]
Self-made monster, I'm no saint, no sir
Try to get it right but this life no gree gree me
Can I ever change? Will I ever change?
Yes, no or maybe? I don't know, I'm helpless

[Verse 2: Plasthic Slash]
Fast forward ten years, he's now a hitman for hire
Blasting guns from behind wheels like its cannon ﬁre
Leaving big holes in walls you could ﬁt air-conditions
Call him name, other killers go cut cap like circumcision
Killing for shady business men and politicians
Murders everything in sight when he's on a mission
A pessimist but luck so good
Sees the glass as half empty but him know say one day him cup go full
He pulled a hit in Aba last weekend, uptown
Scaled the fence and landed in the compound
Shooting guards in the heat of the moment like Butler and Nunn
Father only target but him add mother daughter and son
The victim thought his whole life was so, so boring
Till it ﬂashed before his eyes like broke hoes calling
Loaded weapon bomb louder than empty vessels
Led to bleeding hearts with traces of gun powder and empty vessels
Goes thru the motions with no emotions
Gun, rhythmically clapping at 6 a.m. like morning devotion
Sobers up and wonders why his course is so villainous
Involuntary rigadoon with the forces of wickedness
Cultist in uni, still passed with ﬂying colours
Left rivals eyes wide with horror, most died with honor
In law school, seen in a different light like counterfeit cash
"Enter politics, I sponsor you out of me stash"
Words of a classmate, who was jalabiya dealer
But he'd rather be a killer than a Gbajabiamila
A while back at Rumuola, he ran into Cindy
In a taxi to Wimpey, she was married with three kids
They reminisced about old times, his old crimes
Exchanged phone numbers, MTN and glo lines
Before she alighted, she gave him a deep kiss
And reminded him how he put Ethan in coma for six weeks
"Hope you've changed" she said, with eyes on her android
These days, there's no big deal in being a bad boy"
[Hook: Greham]
Self-made monster, I'm no saint, no sir
Try to get it right but this life no gree gree me
Can I ever change? Will I ever change?
Yes, no or maybe? I don't know, I'm helpless