Liberian Men Don't Cheat (classic)

My people, my people, come sit and see,
This matter here? Ehn, it troubling me.
Liberian men.

Their love can be sweet, their love can be fine,
They good with their words, and smooth with their line.

He say, “Baby, I love you, you my only queen,”
Meanwhile, his Whatsapp? chey, it looking obscene.
Texting “Good morning”, but to five at a time,
Telling me, “But my love, you are only mine.”

Friday night, he claims he with “the boys,”
But still somehow, I hearing woman voice.
Sunday, he say, “Let’s go to church,”
Trying to repent, trying to reverse.

But Monday ehn? That one is pure,
That is the day he tries to stay sure.
No late-night calls, no shady play,
No “that girl my cousin”, no tricks that day.

Monday, he home, trying to act right,
Holding my hand, sometimes too tight.
No flirting, no lies, no secret displays,
Because I swear Liberian Men Don’t Cheat…

But only On Mondays.