In Lagos, where the sun beats down
And the streets are paved with dreams,
People hustle day and night,
Working hard, or so it seems.

From the mainland to the island,
The city's pulse beats strong,
With the sounds of honking horns,
And the vendors' sing-song.

The danfo buses weave their way,
Through the traffic's endless tide,
As the conductors shout out fares,
And passengers squeeze...