Psalms.
12.
David Song My God, make Yu diliver mi! Bikos all doz wey dey fear and respet Yu, wiked pipol don kill dem finish. 
Pipol dey lie give each oda; dem just dey deceive demsef. 
Make God kut di tongue wey dey tok anyhow kon distroy di mout wey dey boast! 
Dem dey sey, “Na di way wi dey tok, dey make us prosper; na wi get awa own lip: who bi awa oga or who go fit stop us?” 
So God ansa, “Bikos of di wiked tins wey dem don do to pipol wey nor get help and di pains wey poor pipol dey face, I go do sometin; I go fight for dem, bikos na so dem wont make I do since.” 
God promise dey pure well-well like silva wey dem melt for fire. 
So Oga God, wi know sey Yu go protet doz wey dem dey opress. Yu go guide dem forever from doz pipol wey sabi lie well-well, 
even from doz evil pipol wey dey evriwhere, bikos wikedness don kover di whole land. 
