Bayanni’s latest track Hustler’s Anthem, featuring the legendary producer Don Jazzy, is more than a song it’s a layered commentary on the realities of economic struggle, ambition, and the pursuit of happiness in a society where wealth often defines worth. Rooted in street wisdom and spiritual resilience, the track delivers its message with poetic sharpness, a catchy rhythm, and rich lyricism that speaks directly to Nigeria’s youth and, by extension, to global audiences who relate to the hustle.

The song kicks off with a provocative challenge to a well-worn saying: “They say money can’t buy happiness, so wait till I get it, and I’ll give you the biggest smile the next time you see me.” This opening is significant not just as a hook, but as a thesis for the rest of the song. Bayanni immediately sets the tone for a message that subverts idealistic clichés. The implication is clear: happiness may be spiritual or emotional, but its expression and sustainability are often tied to financial stability. This relatable perspective frames the tone of the entire piece as both pragmatic and defiant an honest rejection of romanticised poverty.

As the song unfolds, Bayanni continues to tackle the contradiction between societal values and lived experience. He sings, “The best things in life are not for free, don’t give me that bullshit,” delivering a bold critique of ideas that downplay the role of money in shaping the quality of life. In this context, money is not idolised, but it is respected as a tool for survival, dignity, and self-expression. The singer is not asking for wealth for vanity’s sake but arguing for it as a necessity to access the so-called “best things” that people claim are freely available—such as peace of mind, safety, and opportunities.

One of the most powerful lines in the song is: “Poverty na disability, you must to get money before anything.” Here, poverty is not just viewed as a lack of funds but as a form of social and psychological impairment. The choice of the word “disability” is not accidental; it frames poverty as something that restricts movement, voice, choices, and even dignity. In many societies, especially in Nigeria, financial hardship often strips individuals of basic rights and respect, and Bayanni draws from this painful truth to affirm that money is more than just paper—it is power.

The song then uses a brilliant metaphor: “Sometimes life dey hard like mathematics, but once you get money you solve many things.” In these lines, the lyrical imagery is both visual and intellectual. Mathematics, with all its complexity and logical demands, stands in for life’s unpredictable challenges. Yet, the solution, as the artist implies, lies in financial solvency. Money is portrayed as the “answer sheet” to many of life’s most difficult problems from housing and healthcare to emotional well-being and family responsibilities.

Throughout the track, the hustle is presented not just as a physical journey but as a mental and spiritual commitment. Bayanni sings, “Secure the kpa the kpa the kpa, the kpa dey go,” where “kpa” is a Nigerian street slang for money. The repetition here creates rhythm while emphasising the constant movement and instability of money—it comes and goes. This encourages listeners to always stay alert and proactive, securing income wherever and however possible. He reinforces this idea of silent determination when he says, “Never see me outside always on the low,” signalling the virtue of quiet hustle without unnecessary noise or attention.

One of the most touching aspects of the song is the expression of family responsibility. In the line, “Left home to feed home, still I’m coming home,” Bayanni captures a reality faced by many young Nigerians who leave their homes or even countries in search of better economic opportunities. The line is simple, but it carries emotional weight: the duty to one’s roots and the dream of returning successful are at the heart of the hustle. Despite the detachment that often comes with migration or distance, the commitment to “coming home” remains strong.

The song also contains spiritual undertones, reinforcing the belief in divine oversight even amid earthly hustle. Bayanni notes, “I focus on all the things wey matter, na blessings I just dey see all rounder. And I get you for mind you know my brother, tori Oluwa lo ni ija, no bother.” Here, he reassures himself and his listeners that while the hustle is real, so is divine intervention. “Oluwa lo ni ija” translates to “the Lord owns the battle,” a common phrase in Nigerian parlance that reflects surrender to higher forces. It’s a message of hope and spiritual calm in the face of struggle.

The song also contains spiritual undertones, reinforcing the belief in divine oversight even amid earthly hustle. Bayanni notes, “I focus on all the things wey matter, na blessings I just dey see all rounder. And I get you for mind you know my brother, tori Oluwa lo ni ija, no bother.” Here, he reassures himself and his listeners that while the hustle is real, so is divine intervention. “Oluwa lo ni ija” translates to “the Lord owns the battle,” a common phrase in Nigerian parlance that reflects surrender to higher forces. It’s a message of hope and spiritual calm in the face of struggle.

Enter Don Jazzy, whose verse offers both mentorship and bragging rights. His opening line, “Don Jazzy, the Big Don wey dey classy,” is both an introduction and a reminder of his established status. He continues with lines like, “You no hustle pass me, and that’s why you no gather pass me,” blending humility and pride. Here, Don Jazzy doesn’t claim to be above the hustle; instead, he acknowledges his past struggles and uses them to validate his current success. It’s a subtle lesson in persistence and credibility.

Further on, Don Jazzy reflects on the rewards of the hustle with lines such as, “My money double on e own, make you address me like skippo,” and “Come carry Benzema dey go.” These lines blend humour and lifestyle aspirations, highlighting that the journey of a hustler, when successful, leads to respect and luxury. Yet even in his success, he doesn’t trivialise the process it took to get there. Instead, the tone remains inspirational—asserting that if he could achieve it, others can too.

The song closes by looping back to its core message. The repeated chorus reinforces the philosophy that financial success is central to personal happiness and societal validation. In a society where structural challenges often place the burden of survival on individuals, Hustler’s Anthem becomes both a survival chant and a motivational hymn.

What makes this song stand out is its honest reflection of Nigerian realities without sounding preachy or despairing. It doesn’t sugarcoat poverty, nor does it glamorise wealth. Instead, it acknowledges the gritty, tireless, and sometimes lonely journey that lies between lack and abundance. Bayanni and Don Jazzy offer listeners a blend of street wisdom, spirituality, and motivational rhythm that speaks to the ears, heart, and feet.