With GE3, A‑Q does more than complete a trilogy; he cements a legacy. This final chapter is a carefully curated collection of themes and reflections that speak to an artiste at the height of his powers.
By Emmanuel ‘Waziri’ Okoro
One of the biggest music conversations in Nigeria’s digital media space at the moment–beyond the usual fan wars and rage bait content–is the state of its Hip-Hop scene, particularly, what, exactly, constitutes as a rap song, who are its progenitors, and what record has been the most culturally-impactful over the last 3 decades.
These conversations are not totally out of left field, as a new crop of rap stars have been making significant inroads into the scene, reshaping the art form in their own image, and hitting new records along the way. Perhaps, there’s no better time than the present for rap luminary, A-Q (real name Gilbert Bani) to release his highly-anticipated, trilogy-completing project, GE3 (The Beginning).
A-Q has been a mainstay on the continent’s rap scene for almost two decades, releasing critically-acclaimed mixtapes and albums, and winning accolades along the way. However, none of his projects has featured the level of artistry and finesse like the God’s Engineering trilogy.
For an intentional trilogy, A-Q was equally intentional in its rollout, as he delivered it in the highest and most-revered Hip-Hop art form: rap cyphers. In 2019’s “Martell Cypher”, he hinted at it with the lines: “This is God’s vision, I’m looking through perfect lenses/ God body, the God flow is in perfect tenses/ God’s Engineering every time I let the pen speak/ God’s in him, Godzilla, break your defenses”. A year later, he issued the first installment.
Then, as the genre celebrated its golden jubilee alongside Chocolate City’s twentieth anniversary, A-Q once again hinted at the trilogy’s conclusion on the “Choc City Cypher” in early 2024: “Hip-Hop is 50, that’s Golden (his 2021 album), I’m still here/ It’s God’s Engineering, I’ve got two here, three coming”.
Even the release of his critically acclaimed conceptual project, Purple Doesn’t Exist, released later in 2024, did not deter his plans. GE3 (The Beginning) preserves the eleven‑track tradition of its predecessors but takes it up a notch by featuring exclusively three‑word song titles and a greater number of guest appearances to bolster its thematic exploration.
More tellingly, A‑Q ditches the corporate attire seen on the covers of the previous installments in favour of casual streetwear; an intentional visual cue signalling a shift in focus.
On its opener, “Ramlat Timson Str.”, A‑Q offers a window into his humble beginnings: growing up on the eponymous street in Lagos’s bustling suburbs—as depicted in GE3’s cover art—and enduring volatile socio-political climates. He spits ferociously: “Lost a brother in the ‘80s, another in the ‘90s/ Our story was no different from the neighbours, no favours”. This is a sobering commentary on the generational struggles of survival and neglect faced by many Nigerian lower-class families.
Albeit, it is a declaration of purpose. A-Q frames rap not just as an escape but as a weapon. “I found rap, it helped me talk about the things that made us/ Maybe I could be what Big, Nas, and Jay was, famous”. By invoking the legacy of Hip-Hop’s greats, he places his own journey within a global context, aligning his personal evolution with that of the genre itself.
On GE3’s leading single, “Who’s Really Rapping”, A-Q teams up with Blaqbonez to deliver a piercing commentary on the state of Nigeria’s hip-hop scene. The track confronts the genre’s shifting landscape, questioning who among today’s artistes is truly upholding the craft. “Been hot since I stepped into this game, everlasting taker”, Blaqbonez declares, matching A‑Q’s intensity with equal parts bravado and defiance.
A‑Q follows with clinical precision: “It’s not pride, it’s competence/ The confidence is godly sent/ Touch one of mine, I promise there’d be consequences, call forensics”. Their synergy is undeniable, and the track pulses with urgency and self-assuredness, while challenging mediocrity in an industry often defined by trends.
The late Beats By Jayy was instrumental to many rap projects over the years, and on the bouncy “Class VS Clout”, he continues to prove his mettle, even posthumously. A-Q coasts over the beat, drawing a clear line between artistic integrity and the pursuit of virality. He critiques the numbers-driven mindset that dominates the industry today, positioning himself as a creator who values substance over spectacle.
“I know you need those reposts, I’m data-seeking for info/ I know you’re feeding your dopamine. Me, I’m feeding my kinfolks/ You’re trying to work the algorithm, I make the algorithm work for me/ You’re trying to be an influencer, I’m influential; come work for me”, A‑Q raps with measured clarity and authority. It’s a sharp, confident dismissal of performative metrics, reaffirming his stance on legacy and longevity.
GE3 experiences a sonic shift with “Proud of Life”, a slow-tempo bop featuring Qing Madi and the duo, Ajebo Hustlers. Madi’s chorus serves as the emotional thread that anchors the song’s reflective tone. Together, they deliver a toast to the living in the present, weaving in personal narratives of growth and hard-won triumphs. “Read the Signs” follows with A‑Q delivering modern-day proverbs drawn from the lives and lyrics of his musical peers. The track plays like a coded message board, such that it is part cautionary tale, part homage. Terry Apala injects a distinct dynamism into the song, his raspy vocals and rhythmic delivery adding depth and texture to A‑Q’s lyrical introspection.
On “Lost in Translation”, A‑Q teams up with indigenous lyricist, Kabex, to deliver a sharp commentary on the contradictory realities of the average Nigerian. The track is laced with biting social critique, and A‑Q’s criticism is as sharp as it is unapologetic: “2024, dem say nor gree for anybody/ Then gree for Tinubu and complain they livin’ poorly/ 2025, everywhere they’re keeping quiet/Boys are cutting head for science, OS is running quiet in the background”. Kabex complements A‑Q’s verses with gritty bars delivered in Yoruba, painting raw, unfiltered portraits of life on the streets.
“Die By It” sees the rapper reflecting on his upbringing, touching on the struggles and harsh realities he endured while growing up in the streets of Lagos, but ultimately choosing not to be defined or destroyed by them. Rather than romanticise the chaos, as many rappers are wont to do, he draws a clear line between survival and self-destruction, opting instead to rise above it.
This mindset is particularly evident in his stellar business acumen. Beyond the mic, A‑Q has built an impressive entrepreneurial portfolio: he is the founder of The Cake Bizness Music Company and The ConnectHead, co-founder of 100 Crowns (an imprint under Chocolate City), Director of Investment (Africa) at Wahoo Music Entertainment, and Head of Acquisition at Bytetunes Music Entertainment. Through these ventures, A‑Q reinforces the song’s core message; that success can be engineered through vision and the refusal to be a product of your environment.
On the Prosse-produced “R.O.I.”, A‑Q delivers a scathing critique of the reckless and indulgent choices many of his peers make, choices that often lead to dire consequences. A‑Q positions himself as both observer and commentator, as he dissects the illusion of success with surgical precision: “Look at how they struggling/ Sold their cars, couldn’t keep up with the opulence/ Sold their soul without proofreading the documents/ Bentleys and G-Wagons, now funds are insufficient”.
They say, “the only way to move forward is to look back”, a sentiment that resonates deeply in a country where its current socio-political climate is shaped by the unresolved legacies of its past. A‑Q channels this reflection into a heart-piercing commentary on “Class of ‘66”, confronting the nation’s troubled history with military rule.
The track opens with an audio clip from General Murtala Ramat Mohammed’s first address as head of state, following the 1975 coup attempt that ousted General Yakubu Gowon. From there, A‑Q launches into a searing indictment of Nigeria’s military rulers, exposing how their penchant for violence and corruption set the stage for decades of dysfunction. With precision and poignancy, he connects the dots between the past and the present, showing how the ripple effects of their actions continue to haunt the nation’s political and economic realities.
On “Note to Self”, A‑Q pens an emotional letter to his future self over a soul-stirring Nana (The Sauce) production. The track is introspective and vulnerable, with A‑Q confronting questions of legacy, relevance, and personal growth. He wrestles with the fleeting nature of fame and the enduring impact of his craft.
“Do people recognise you in the streets, as one of the greatest rappers to have ever lived?/ Do you still see tweets of your lyrics?/Does social media still exist?/ Do kids put your music on repeat and think you are the shit?”, he spits, offering a glimpse into the mind of a rapper who, while confident in his skill, remains grounded in self-awareness.
“One Last Time” closes the God’s Engineering trilogy in grand fashion. Featuring Dwin, The Stoic, the track serves as a powerful finale—one that distils A‑Q’s reflections on gratitude, resilience, and faith into a masterclass of lyricism. With cinematic flair and emotional depth, A‑Q charts his journey from struggle to self-mastery, embracing both his scars and victories.
“When the door closes, I become unhinged and open ceilings/ When it was time to focus, I froze in time and broke the laws of physics/ I rewrote equations they couldn’t understand how I move the pieces/ Might take some time but I’m sure they’ll come around like telekinesis/ If we’re building, we’re building, nothing short of a unicorn/ If I ever fall, I fall from empires I built upon”. Dwin, The Stoic’s contribution deepens the narrative, bringing texture and emotional weight to the track.
With GE3, A-Q doesn’t just complete a trilogy; he cements a legacy. This final chapter is a carefully curated collection of themes and reflections that speak to an artiste at the height of his powers. Across its runtime, A-Q takes listeners on a journey that is as personal as it is political, and as introspective as it is forward-looking. From addressing contradictions in civic life on “Lost In Translation”, recounting Nigeria’s troubled history on “Class of ‘66”, to confronting personal demons and industry habits on “Note to Self” and “R.O.I”, A‑Q tackles each subject with the clarity of a seasoned thinker and the courage of a generational voice.
GE3 (The Beginning) is a fitting and triumphant conclusion to a trilogy that has consistently pushed and elevated the boundaries of Nigerian Hip-Hop. But more than that, it feels like the beginning of a new era for A-Q.
Lyricism – 1.8
Tracklisting – 1.6
Sound Engineering – 1.6
Vocalisation – 1.3
Listening Experience – 1.8
Rating – 8.1/10
Emmanuel ‘Waziri’ Okoro is a content writer and journo with an insatiable knack for music and pop culture, with bylines on Afrocritik, PM News Nigeria, Tribune, ThisDay Live, Vanguard, and The Guardian. When he’s not writing, you will find him arguing why Arsenal FC is the best football club in the multiverse. Connect with him on Twitter, Instagram, and Threads: @BughiLorde.