Davido, Zlatan & the thrill of adlibs in Nigerian music
No one can be sure what they all mean, but they're provocative
Were you really into Nigerian music in the late ‘00s if “Yes, Boss!” wasn’t a part of your lexicon? With the opening words of his smash single, “Kini Big Deal”, Naeto C instantly entered himself into pop culture lingo, through a phrase that served as an initial identifier of his presence and quickly morphed into everyday slang. Over subsequent years, Naeto constantly invoked the same phrase across his songs and on feature appearances, a small but important ritual during the supreme era his rap superstardom.
Without any exaggeration, “Yes, Boss!” is one of the most iconic adlibs to have graced Nigerian music, a tag Naeto used with liberty and to great effect—both as a familiar intro and as embellishments to his flossy raps (see: “Ako Mi Ti Poju”). Broadly speaking, an adlib is a catchphrase worked into a song based on the artist’s discretion. Usually, the songwriting process involves primary concerns like lyric writing and melody composition, however, layers of spontaneous vocals are stacked around the main body of the song while recording. It’s during this secondary stage that artists throw in corresponding harmonies, backing chants, adlibs and other elements deemed fit in making the song fuller and ready for public listening.
These days, adlibs have become a permanent fixture in global pop music, especially as hip-hop has become the epicentre of pop culture over the last three decades. It’s not that hip-hop pioneered the use of adlibs, but it is undeniably responsible in popularising its usage. In fact, adlibs can be traced all the way back to the spirit-filled hollering that accompanied the singing of worship songs in Black churches. For secular purposes, though, vocal scats in jazz music can be pointed to as a jump-off point, a lineage that can be traced to the visceral yelps of James Brown and several other artists in the heyday of Funk in the ‘60s and ‘70s.
With jazz and funk as important early threads in its sonic fabric, it makes sense that hip-hop not only adopted adlibs, but also evolved the range of its usage in music. While emphasis remains its priority, rap music has effectively expanded the way adlibs can be used in song, affording artists a myriad of imaginative ways to employ them. In the ‘90s, adlibs were mostly limited to “yeah”, “uhh” and other simple monosyllabic word and sounds. Over two decades later, coinciding with the American South taking control of Hip-Hop’s steering wheel, adlibs have become delightfully complex and constantly innovative. This phenomenon was bound to impact Nigerian music, considering its extensive relationship with American Rap music.
No external cultural phenomenon has had – and continues to have – a more profound effect on modern-day Nigerian pop music than hip-hop. In the mid to late ‘90s, considered as the foundation days of the latest, ongoing renaissance in Nigerian music, a significant portion of the music created within the country’s shores were vivid cosplays of rap hits, and those that weren’t, made no attempts to hide their fascination with, and the direct inspiration of, hip-hop’s musical and cultural ethos.
Over the next two decades, Nigerian pop music would consistently morph into an amorphous, boundless and multi-coloured organism, through constant sonic experimentation that places it in greater touch with older parochial musical styles such as highlife, fuji, varying styles of traditional folk and more, while sourcing out influences from around the continent and across the world. Notwithstanding, the bond with hip-hop has never been downplayed, as a cultural ally in the continued push for increased global visibility, and as a consistent stylistic influence. With this context in mind, it was only a matter of when, not if, Nigerian music would go on to co-opt Hip-Hop’s innovative adlib ethos.
The main narrative concerning the classic status Naeto C’s “Kini Big Deal” is the suave, refreshing edge it immediately brought into Nigerian music—both rap and in general. While that’s an irrefutable fact, the song’s instant impact didn’t happen in a vacuum. Around its 2007 release was the ringtone era, where Swag rap held the hip-hop terrain in a chokehold. With T.I, Lil Wayne, Kanye West, Jeezy and Soulja Boy—all important to the evolution of adlibs—amongst the most popular rap artists alive at the time, that period in rap was significantly defined by bold, chanted hooks and catchphrases, sometimes wordless, meant to stick in the listener’s head after a few listens. “Kini Big Deal” is not the definitive first example of adlib use in Nigerian music but, alongside Naeto’s long list of bangers, it coins on those elements it’s a memorable one to point at.
In the same way it grew into itself after initially importing hip-hop’s mannerisms, Nigerian music has evolved its own distinct sense of adlib usage, ensuring that it isn’t entirely beholden to its external inspiration. A big part of that comes from adlib use being increasingly rooted in present-day, parochial slang amongst Nigerians. Closing out 2017 as one of the hottest songs around, Mr Real’s smash hit, “Legbegbe”, was infamously based on an attempted theft incident involving actor Seun Egbegbe, who tried to pull off a heist of twelve iPhones in Lagos’ bustling Computer Village. The song itself is built on a simple call-and-response hook, where the repeated chants of “Legbegbe” could also qualify as adlibs.
As with everything in contemporary Nigerian pop music, it’s undeniable that street-bred music has been at the cutting edge of adlib usage, especially in the last few years. Before then, though, adlibs were very well in use, from Davido’s “Shekpe” (which he still uses till today), to the time when Wizkid used to yell “Yaga” at every given opportunity. However, what’s made adlibs in Nigerian music more pronounced and especially thrilling in the wake of Street Hop’s now-permanent mainstream presence, is its unrelenting inventiveness and the sprawling scope of its usage.
Last year, DJ Kaywise brought together Mayorkun, Naira Marley and Zlatan for “What Type Of Dance”, a street banger that would have been a bigger smash if not for the pandemic. The song found Mayorkun in his usual feature-killer bag, delivering snappy melodies and catchy lyrics, while Naira Marley turns in a typically intoxicating, raunchy verse, but there’s an argument for Zlatan’s boisterous involvement as the song’s wildcard element. All through “WTOD”, Zlatan’s penchant for throwing around adlibs with reckless abandon takes some precedent, as he growls, yells, moans, and repeats lyrics even in parts where he isn’t the primary vocalist. It’s the type of noise in a song that should be annoying, but once you hear it, it’s impossible to hear the song without the uncontrolled madness.
Generally speaking, it is impossible to discuss the recent innovativeness of adlibs in Nigerian music without mentioning Zlatan. In the years since breaking out with “Zanku (Legwork)” and the show-stealing verse on Chinko Ekun’s “Able God”, the rapper has been one of the best connoisseurs of both spontaneous and signature tags, including “Kapaichumarichupaco”, “Astalavi, give dem!” and “Ayiiii”. Besides the intensely introspective moment in his catalogue, Zlatan’s commitment to adlibs is clear and unwavering, often filling the spaces between his energetic rap delivery with as many personal tags and infectious sounds as possible.
Even with Beyoncé hitting the Zanku last summer, and the consistent roll of smash street hop songs that continues to dominate Nigerian music, there are still sceptics still sticking with the idea of a downwind in the fortune of the current wave of Street-bred music. The argument is that musical styles attached to dances can’t be anything more than fads, which has some merit from a historical standpoint. The current reality, though, is that street hop is constantly evolving while also sticking to its roots, by seeking out new musical sources to refresh the sound and letting street lingo influence its lyricism and adlib usage. Rexxie and Mohbad’s “KPK”, for example, is an Amapiano-inspired banger packed with slang already recognised by its primary audience: the Streets.
The same way it has drastically affected the sound of mainstream, Street Hop has directly contributed to the role of adlibs in Nigerian pop music. One of the catchiest and most recognisable adlibs in Nigerian music at the moment is Mayorkun’s playful intonation of “ge-ge”, an invocation of “This bread no be Agege”, a widely known slang popularised by the popstar. In a prosperous 2020, which saw him evolve into a more magnetic superstar via a few singles and show-stealing features, Mayorkun displayed a supreme grasp of the use of adlibs, whether it was in the embellishing low growls of the ultra-groovy, Grime-inspired “Geng”, or on the Amapiano cut “Of Lagos”, which primarily consisted of the self-aggrandising adlib, “of lay lay”.
On the Davido-headlining “The Best”, Mayorkun got Wande Coal to throw in a high-pitched adlib that instantly added flavour to an already impeccable verse. Like he declared on that song, he learnt from the best, Davido, and as singular as his adlib usage is, the DMW boss seems like a worthy inspiration. Over the very nearly decade-long run of his superstardom, Davido has made it a habit to fill every space in his songs, sometimes even throwing in onomatopoeias where lyrics are conventionally meant to be, as in his smash song “Dami Duro”.
Without a doubt, “Shekpe” is his most recognisable signature adlib till date, a tag he’s invoked even when he seems less boisterous than usual. These days, he’s experimenting with newer adlibs, like he recently did on his standout appearance on Focalistic’s “Ke Star (Remix)”. Opening the song, he chants “ko wole” (“it didn’t enter”), punctuating it with dismissive declarations of “nibo”, which translates into “where”. He then goes on to casually yell “Tule jare”, a phrase he popularised last December after rumours of a physical altercation with Burna Boy, in Ghana, surfaced online. Personally, the video of him yelling “Tule” into the camera seemed absurd—“why the noise”, I thought—but hearing it on “Ke Star (Remix)” was delightful, and I wouldn’t mind hearing it more often on wax, alongside recently popularised slangs like “E choke” and “who dey breathe”.
The truth is, adlibs make songs catchier and more memorable. While the potential widespread likeability of a song depends on several other factors, like the sonic makeup, the thematic writing, and melodic execution, but adlibs make songs fuller and can even end up being the song’s main draw. It’s impossible to think of Rema’s “Lady” without remembering “Achukuleke”, or imagine “Woman” without the energetic sections of seeming gibberish that the Mavin wunderkind explained as “Bini lamba”. No one can really know what every adlib is, but they’re provocative when done right, almost daring you to not break into dance or at least sing along, because forgetting them is simply not an option.
@dennisadepeter is a staff writer at the NATIVE
ICYMI: WHY NIGERIAN POP MUSIC LEFT THE STREETS
Davido And Martell Is A Partnership Rooted In Authenticity
"I always ask myself: ‘Does this partnership open doors for others? Does it make the culture look good?’...
Celebrity brand endorsements have become a stamp of artists’ weight in the game, and Davido has been certified many times over. His recent album rollout for ‘5ive’ included partnerships with brands like FoodCourt, Stake, PlayStation, and of course, Martell with whom he has had a long-standing relationship for the past few years.
When Davido’s face first lit up Martell billboards across Lagos in 2021, it marked the beginning of a broader cultural shift. In the years since, Martell has soared to the top as Nigeria’s number one cognac brand, and the world has been watching.
Ask Davido why this partnership works, and his answer is simple: authenticity. “Honestly, it’s just a real alignment,” he says. “Martell stands for boldness, legacy, moving with purpose, and that’s exactly how I operate. From day one, it didn’t feel like a typical brand partnership; it felt like a collaboration. We both represent excellence, and we’re not afraid to shake things up. That’s why it works.”
That authenticity has proven to be Martell’s secret weapon. Rather than treating Davido as a decorative face, the brand invited him into the room to shape the narrative. “I didn’t want to just be the face, I wanted to shape the story,” he explains. “I saw the opportunity to bring in a new energy, a new vibe that speaks to the culture. Something that’s fresh but still classy. We’ve been able to infuse that African excellence, that Naija spirit, into everything we do. That’s what makes it different.”
Martell’s campaigns under Davido’s influence have been electric, thrumming with the same energy that animates the streets of Lagos and beyond. The now-iconic “Be the Standout Swift” campaign particularly stands out. It featured sleek visuals, a thumping soundtrack, and Davido himself front and center, embodying exactly what it means to move with purpose. “The response was mad,” Davido recalls to The NATIVE. “The visuals went crazy, the soundtrack hit, and people connected with it instantly. I remember seeing Martell billboards with my face on it and realising it meant representation for African artists. That made the whole thing bigger than just branding.”
It’s precisely the point of their collaboration. The Martell-Davido partnership has been more about rewriting the rules than it has been about selling bottles of cognac. In the past, African artists were often brought in to add flavour to campaigns conceived elsewhere or were typically not the main characters. Now, thanks to moves like the Martell-Davido partnership, they’re leading them. “It set a new tone,” Davido notes. “I think it made a lot of brands wake up and realise that African culture is global culture now, you can’t ignore it. You have to invest in it properly.”
This shift in thinking has had real-world impact. Martell, which once competed with long-entrenched cognac brands in Nigeria, is now the market leader. Beyond the sales, this connection marks a strategic victory for culturally-grounded branding. Its connection to youth culture, Afrobeats, and the aspirational lifestyle Davido embodies has turned it into a status symbol at the center of Nigeria’s thriving nightlife and social scene.
For Davido, these wins go beyond commercial success. He’s acutely aware of the weight of his platform and chooses partnerships accordingly. “I’m very, very conscious,” he admits, “I know the power of my platform. I’m not just repping myself, I’m repping Africa. So, any brand I align with has to respect that. It’s not just about money or clout. It’s about legacy. It’s about how we tell our story, how we elevate the culture. I always ask myself: ‘Does this partnership open doors for others? Does it make the culture look good?’ If the answer is yes, then we move.”
That consciousness is perhaps the biggest driver of Martell’s success story. By aligning with a figure whose influence runs deeper than celebrity, Martell has built a bond with Nigerian consumers that feels personal; their fave is drinking Martell, and so they will. Davido’s swagger, his work ethic, and his sense of cultural pride are now the same as Martell’s.
The biggest takeaway from this partnership is that true cultural resonance comes from collaboration, not co-option. Davido getting the space to lead and align his core self with the brand has not only boosted sales but also given Martell the credibility needed for that. This sort of influence flattens the curve and builds the culture.
With Davido at its side, Martell has become more than a cognac.
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In Tribute To Daddy Lumba, Ghana’s Most Beloved Maverick
Characterized by his charismatic approach, lyricism, and nonconformity, Daddy Lumba reshaped the music and...
Death is said to be the end of all things, but for some, it is just a process of immortalization. That is the case for legendary Ghanaian artist Charles Kwadwo Fosuh, also known as Daddy Lumba. On the 26th of July, 2025, reports of his demise spread across the world, causing doubts and confusion until his family released an official statement through its lawyer, Fati Ali Yallah, Esq., confirming the devastating news.
For six decades, DL, as he is affectionately referred to, has been a son, a husband, a father, an artist, a teacher, an innovator, and a cultural icon. The accumulation of the lives he lived has earned him the admiration and respect of Ghanaians and music lovers around the world for generations.
Daddy Lumba started exploring his musical talent in the 1980s during his time in secondary school, eventually emerging as the lead of the school choir. Years later, during his stay in Germany, he would be introduced to Highlife music through his friendship and partnership with Nana Acheampong. The duo would form the group “Lumba Brothers” and work on the project ‘Yee Ye, aka Akwantuom,’ which was released in 1989. After the group’s breakup, he launched his solo career with his 1990 solo debut album, ‘Obi Ate Meso Buo.’
Daddy Lumba would go on to have an illustrious career. Credited with over 30 albums and more than 200 songs, his seminal works included “Playboy,” Mesom Jesus,” “Aben Wo Aha,” Poison,” and “Sika,” to name a few. Characterized by his charismatic approach, lyricism, and nonconformity, Daddy Lumba reshaped the music and art scene in Ghana. His control over his native language, Twi, allowed him to pen songs that spoke directly to the soul of the listener. His proverbial lyrics and addictive melodies made his songs easy listens for those who didn’t even fully understand the languages he sang in. He composed songs that served as a guide for people across the different facets of life.
Raised in a gospel background, Daddy Lumba blessed the world with multiple gospel albums that showed his admiration for God and were a testament to his past as a choir leader. In an interesting twist of events, he also had songs that dissected his thoughts on lust, love, and relationships and provided motivation and hope, as well as songs that would get you dancing. During his active years, Daddy Lumba’s songs ran wild across the media, streets, pubs, weddings, and funerals, and echoed from home to home across Accra to Europe.
As a student of Highlife, he ensured the growth and evolution of the sound through his songs and albums over the years. He mastered the craft so well that he would be instrumental in ushering in Borga/Burger Highlife, a sub-genre of Highlife that was steeped in contemporary influences and defined by its funky essence. Borga Highlife was not just in the sound but was also evident in his visual identity. He curated music and art in a style that bewildered people at the time. In today’s world, he would have been described as alté.
Beyond music, his influence on Ghanaian pop culture was immense. It was rooted in nonconformity and the deconstruction of stereotypes. While aspects of his music appealed to Ghana’s conservative outlook, he was also regarded by some as a moral miscreant. As the moral police came for his sensual lyrics and subversive influence on the youth, the love of the music from the wider public was louder.
Where traditional media tried to bury his songs, the masses gave them more life at parties, pubs, and any gatherings where music could be played. Around the early 2000s, Daddy Lumba would come to be accepted as a symbol of modern Ghanaian culture, eventually beating the system by finding a balance that appealed to those who wanted songs that mirrored their sensuality, youthfulness, and freedom without alienating the conservative faction of the country.
He introduced a swagger and flair to Highlife that many were not accustomed to. Winning over not just the older generation but also young people, both at home and abroad. From his many hairstyles–be it a fade, cornrows, or permed hair–he always stood out. Coupled with eye-catching aesthetics, as seen in his photos and music videos, he provided a visual blueprint that rising acts today still draw inspiration from.
Regardless of the genre, theme, or style, Daddy Lumba kept topping charts and winning over listeners. He wore many hats and played diverse roles, and executed all of them brilliantly. It did not matter if he was paying homage to his long-lost love on “Theresa,” bidding farewell on “Makra Mo,” singing praises to God on “Eye N’adom,” craving intimacy on “Pony/Enko Den,” or even preaching diversity on “Bubra,” it all came together as long as it was orchestrated by Daddy Lumba.
His songs not only mirrored his own experiences but also provided a sonic reflection of the lived experiences of the people who listened to his music. He was an artist for the people, and he never shied away from making his fans feel loved and heard.. DL was so enshrouded in Ghanaian popular culture that it is no surprise how many momentous Ghanaian occasions and memories of the last 30 years are intrinsically tied to his songs.
In a country where people often get backlash for showing their political affiliations, Lumba was appreciated more when he took a public stance on supporting a political party. He was so loved that his campaign song “Nana Winner” for the New Patriotic Party (NPP) is played at non-partisan events like raves and parties to a wild reception and excitement. Recognizing his influence, he always platformed talents as best as he could. He nurtured and mentored several artists. Through his album ‘Wo Ho Kyere’, he introduced Ofori Amponsah, his protégé, to the wider public. Ofori would go on to become one of Ghana’s most celebrated artists with hits like “Otolege,” “Odwo,” and “Emmanuella.” Daddy Lumba also mentored artists like Felix Owusu, Borax, and Ateaa Tina, among others.
While his peers were left behind with the advent of music digitalization, Lumba stayed with the times. His music became the stuff of urban legend and was among some of the most-streamed Ghanaian music across platforms in recent times. There were frequent conversations, stories, and breakdowns of his songs on social media, steered by a generation of older listeners, handing down a lived-in perspective for a younger generation. His career is a testament to the fact that good music will always stand the test of time.
When news broke of his death on the 26th of July, 2025, an entire nation fell into a state of mourning. Artists, politicians, and various individuals took to social media to share their condolences with the bereaved family. In a heartfelt message on his Facebook page, his old friend, Nana Acheampong, shared a farewell note to his old friend and brother: “You have indeed done what the creator brought you on earth to do, you will forever inspire generations,” he wrote in a post on Facebook.
Daddy Lumba lived an exciting life and had an enviable career working with artists of different eras. From Pat Thomas to Samini, Kwabena Kwabena, Okyeame Kwame, and Sarkodie, he collaborated with several acts. He also won awards and performed in multiple countries. However, his biggest win remains earning the love of an entire nation. Perhaps the most loved Ghanaian artist across generations, people were born to his music and buried with his music, completing the lifetime cycle with Daddy Lumba’s music booming in the background.
There have been public calls for a state burial for Daddy Lumba, with a vigil already planned for August 2, 2025, at Independence Square, Accra. Lumba’s legacy as an innovator and trailblazer will be etched in Ghanaian music history and the hearts of listeners across the world. He was a strong believer that he was just biding his time on earth, doing his best till it was time to leave.
While he departs the world, his songs and messages will continue to live on throughout time.
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Asake Links With Tiakola On Gritty “BADMAN GANSTA”
Another step towards ‘Money,’ his fourth
Street-pop star, Asake, has released a surprise new single titled “BADMAN GANSTA.” Produced by super producer, P.Priime, the single, Asake’s second of the year, arrives with a crisp black and white feature and a stellar guest verse from French rapper and singer Tiakola.
The singer posted the full music video–a monochromatic montage of dazzling shots and scenes of his opulent lifestyle–across his different social media handles on Thursday evening, July 24, with a caption that read, ‘The World Of Money.’
Earlier in June, the ex-YBNL star announced a new album titled ‘Money.’ A few months before that, he released a loosie titled “Military” and then “WHY LOVE,” his first official single under his new imprint Giran Republic. “Military” served as a bookend to the first arc of his impressive career as much as an announcement of a new era, while “WHY LOVE” officially kicked off season two.
Following the release of “WHY LOVE,” Asake has also featured on songs like Olamide’s “99,” J Hus’ “Gold”, and Young Jonn’s “Che Che,” delivering standout verses that favour a melodious, laid-back approach as opposed to the spirited, fast-paced style that earned him success early on. “BADMAN GANSTA” also excels with this approach, as Asake’s melodious musings about his current lifestyle dovetail nicely with Tiakola’s equally sturdy verse over a plush beat that samples Amerie’s 2005 classic “1 Thing.”
With Asake releasing three albums in as many years, it’s not unreasonable to assume ‘Money’ might arrive before the end of the year. There’s also the possibility that he might be willing to take his time a little more now, seeing as he his under his imprint now.
Whatever the case may be, ‘Money’ is likely to arrive sooner rather than later, and it will be fascinating to see what other aces Asake has up his sleeves.
Listen to “BADMAN GANSTA” here.
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