The groove is already up on its feet when that first “remix” tag comes in.

“Nwa baby, nye me ife gi” starts working like a loop right away, close to the beat and easy to catch.

The vocal gets more talkative here; the beat stays steady while the shorter phrases tumble through it.

Those “kporokotokpotomkpom” sounds are part of the rhythm now, more like mouth percussion than a normal line.

The “waka waka” calls settle into a chant shape, each one answered by that bright little “oh yeah.”

“Sawaleh” opens the mouth a little wider after all those clipped consonants, but the dance count keeps going underneath.

Now the voice leans fully into knocks and repeated syllables: “kpom kpom” becomes the front edge of the groove.

The “ashawo, awusha” exchange comes in as short tossed tags, and the track doesn’t have to change weight around them.

After the laugh, the refrain feels like home base: same phrase, same light low end, but now it has all that chant behind it.

The second verse brings the scene into sharper social detail — suya, alcohol, money — while the groove keeps its same clean forward push.

“Plenty plenty plenty” turns the money line into another small motor inside the vocal.

When the “waka waka” sequence returns, it’s less about surprise than placement: lead phrase, answer, lead phrase, answer.

The second “kpom kpom” run keeps the mouth right up front, tapping out the song’s pleasure in repeated consonants.

That late laugh doesn’t stop anything; it just rides over a groove that still feels ready to continue.

The outro brings back the name tag — “Mr Flavour pon de dance” — like a small final stamp on the same dance frame.