
Lyrics
[VERSE 1]
Jah bless me o many
Ṣaanu mi I no fit dey beggi
Kọmọ ‘nu mi ma pe mi ni dirty
Billion dollar baby o bajẹ ti
P’emi yatọ si wọn don’t compare me
K’owo mi o pọ make I fear me
Kọmọ araye ma ṣe yẹyẹ mi
Tori ẹni ti o ni f’oribẹ ni
Death no go cut the story short
Ilẹ a ṣu, ilẹ a mọ if I talk
No more trust I do my job
Owo ni mo fẹ ye ye if at all
I know I go rise if I fall
Mo ra lappy ye ye ki n fi explore
Made a promise to my love
Ẹni to lọ ye ye lo ma bọ
[Chorus]
Laye ta wa ka rowo na
Alubarika ki n ma m’oṣI o
Nirọ ni I rọ adaba, a rọ mi lọrun
Awọn malaika wọn dẹ ti fọhun
Laye ta wa ka rowo na
Alubarika ki n ma m’oṣI o
Nirọ ni I rọ adaba, a rọ mi lọrun
Awọn malaika wọn dẹ ti fọhun
[VERSE 2]
Awọn student emi class teacher
I forecast mo gbe l’handicap
This your back gbe mi l’handicap
Da mi lohun give me my regard
Ragamofi simple laye my nigga
Ṣọra fayе, aye ma nika
Liga liga li o cash out fingers
Ah ah, amin o emi rirе gba
[Chorus]
Laye ta wa ka rowo na
Alubarika ki n ma m’oṣI o
Nirọ ni I rọ adaba, a rọ mi lọrun
Awọn malaika wọn dẹ ti fọhun
Laye ta wa ka rowo na
Alubarika ki n ma m’oṣI o
Nirọ ni I rọ adaba, a rọ mi lọrun
Awọn malaika wọn dẹ ti fọhun
Song Meaning & Explanation
There's a particular strain of Afrobeats that doesn't ask for blessings so much as demand them, and "Alubarika" lives squarely in that register. Seyi Vibez opens with his voice already mid-plea — "Jah bless me o many" — and never really softens from there, but what makes the track work is how he braids gratitude with grievance until you can't tell where one ends and the other begins.
The verses read like a ledger of survival. He's warding off mockery ("kọmọ araye ma ṣe yẹyẹ mi") while flexing wealth that still feels precarious — "billion dollar baby" sits a breath away from "no more trust I do my job," a line that lands harder for how plainly it's delivered. That's the emotional engine here: success as armor against people who watched you struggle. Death gets namechecked almost casually ("death no go cut the story short"), which is very much in the Nigerian street-hop tradition of treating mortality as just another obstacle to talk your way past.
The hook is where the song earns its title. "Alubarika" — blessing, essentially — gets chanted over that image of the dove, "adaba," pleading to heaven, angels finally speaking up on his behalf. It's a gorgeous bit of imagery, genuinely the strongest writing on the record, and the melody wisely gets out of its own way to let the phrase breathe.
Where the song loses some altitude is Verse 2, which feels rushed and thinner by comparison — the "handicap" wordplay is clever once, repeated it reads more like a placeholder than a hook. Seyi Vibez's melodic instinct and his pidgin-Yoruba code-switching remain his real gift; here it's doing a lot of work to cover for a second verse that never quite matches the first.
Still, as a mood piece — a man arguing himself into faith — it holds.
7/10
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