They call me the lion,
Ilujinle is my jungle
Pay no hid to the village mad man
I have no hate for him.
Would it profit me to
pit my strength against
you see I change my wrestlers
when I have learnt to throw them
Lakunle’s efforts are like that of a woman
pouring water into a basket; for
Ilujinle shall remain my jungle.
I’m I not Baroka, the King of the Jungle.
They say I paid off the contractors.
In defence of my honour,
I’ll utter no utterance.
Let my ever present enemies
speculate, it is okay.
Mystery is my first love;
I live, sleep, bath in it ray.
For now, I have no love
but Sidi, till another battle
offers to be conquered;
she was an easy prey.
It took only the right ingredients:
a plan, the leak, Sadiku’s flaming mouth
and the prey walked into the set trap.
I use what I have to get what I want,
Am I not Baroka
King of the Jungle.
To think I paid her no heed
till the stranger brought her
beauty out like the morning dew
then I remembered it had been
five full month since I last
warmed my bed with a new blood.