No Excuses stakes a claim: the Nigerian rap scene should take Blaqbonez as seriously as he takes himself.
By Emmanuel ‘Waziri’ Okoro
Nigerian Hip-Hop has long been one of the building blocks of pop music within the region. Yet, as the world began to turn its gaze toward Nigerian pop music in the mid to late 2010s, its Hip-Hop scene started to fade into the background. This decline didn’t go unnoticed. In 2017, rap luminary, M.I Abaga, released “You Rappers Should Fix Up Your Lives”, a diss record that called out the genre’s complacency. Amid the responses from rappers who felt slighted, Blaqbonez was one of the names that stood out; his response of the same title reignited interest and helped position him as its new provocateur.
Since then, he has steadily built a reputation as one of the torchbearers of modern Nigerian rap. While EPs like Bad Boy Blaq (2018), Bad Boy Blaq Re-Up (2019), and Mr. Boombastic (2019) showcased his versatility, conceptual albums like Sex Over Love (2021) and Young Preacher (2022) cemented his place as one of the genre’s most inventive voices, with a slew of awards along the way. And while his 2023 album, Emeka Must Shine, received mixed reviews, his latest offering, No Excuses, feels like a course correction, a return of intent, clarity, and balance. It’s a project that stakes a claim: the Nigerian rap scene should take him as seriously as he takes himself.
It opens with “Everlasting Taker”, a title he previously touted as the album title, and Blaqbonez wastes no time in setting the tone unflinching self-belief and swagger. Over the laid-back, bouncy production, Blaqbonez stakes his claim as the “last real nigga” in a scene he believes has lost its essence. The chorus alone encapsulates his ethos: “Them know the theory but me I dey practice am/ I put my heart in this shit, I dey carry am/ This nor be quick fame, this is a career”. It’s both a declaration and a subtle jab at artistes who chase virality over vision.
Prettyboy D-O’s outro segues into “Consistency”, a track that feels like a mission statement of No Excuses, that sees Blaq revisit the grind, glamour, glory that have defined his rise. “You know it’s Blaq, so you know it’s nice/ Mixin’ this shit, I’m like Walter White (Money worldwide)/ Step fast in my own lane/ Energy crazy, them ask if I’m on cocaine”, he spits. Telz and Kofo Sound’s production elevates his armchair flows, coupled with AJ Tracey’s guest verse, which adds dynamism in its delivery.
Pa Salieu appears on “Aura 4 Aura”, a whimsical tune that sees both of them sidestep into their hedonistic and playful selves, blending seduction into a nocturnal rhythm. Blaqbonez frames desire as a driving force for his actions: “I might really fall in love with a stripper/ She dey for south, make I teleport am”.
“ACL” might feel like Blaq is pulling some punches, but it is an effective diss record to rapper, Odumodublvck. He is sharp, theatrical, and equally cruel. The title itself is a loaded metaphor: tearing an ACL (anterior cruciate ligament) is one of the most devastating injuries for an athlete, and Blaq repurposes it to spar Odumodublvck, who “try to flow like Blaq” but can’t keep up.
From the opening line, he sets the tone with a smirk: “Boys they know I’m the blueprint, they wanna be me, so I hear”. And what follows is a complete washing down. He doesn’t just end at taking a swipe at Big Kala, he dissects his persona, his affiliations (“Anti-what? More like anti-success”), and a subtle dig at his age. “ACL” is filled with quotables like “Used to be him, Bobrisky/ Now e don cast, he’s finished/ Everyday all about Blaq, he’s tweeting/ Anywhere wey clout dey, you see him”. All of these lines are packed with double entendres that this writer believes will need another breakdown.
As if that is not enough, Blaq’s confidence morphs into cold detachment in Part II. “If you text me before you talk to God, then I’m your religion”, he raps, drawing the final line between himself and his rival. It’s both absurd and brilliant, a punchline that doubles as self-mythologising. As far as sparrings go, it is evident “ACL” wins this round, and it is interesting to see where it leads.
Blaqbinez sheds off his warrior persona on the JAE-5 produced “Bizzy Body”, featuring Valiant & Kazez, a Dancehall-infused number about indulgence and exuberance. They both coast over the production, injecting dynamism through their verses. “Despacito” featuring rising star, FOLA, is the most melodic cut on No Excuses—it is a sultry, breezy blend of sensuality with carefree swagger that finds Blaq in his most playful form. “She swear she hate me, but she love the life we living/ She contemplating leaving me but she ain’t leaving”, he delivers; a portrait of modern love—restless, indulgent, and self-aware. FOLA’s chorus binds the song together in a beautiful way, as it’s no surprise why he’s one of the most sought singers this year.
Rap legend, Olamide, makes an appearance, serving the hook on “Nati”, an Amapiano party anthem helmed by the talents of Magicsticks and Ramoni. Blaq blends humour and vivid imagery. “She nor dey listen to my Hip-Hop shit/ She and Amapiano be like 5 & 6”, he quips, poking fun at his own crossover appeal.
On “Just Hustlin $$$”, he delivers a searing commentary on the socio-economic realities of Nigeria’s teeming youths. He doesn’t try to moralise or posture. He simply documents. He is disarming when he sings, “Lotta hoes weren’t hoes before this T-Pain era/ One income nor dey enough inside this T-Pain era”. In these lines, Blaqbonez captures the moral grey zone of a generation forced to adapt, a quiet nod to those navigating love, sex, and livelihood in a transactional economy.
No Excuses meets its midpoint with “Good Time”. Here, Blaqbonez and Mellissa serve up a ballad of carefree indulgence. Backed by Mellissa’s silky chorus, the track unfolds as an unapologetic flex; a celebration of success, luxury, and unbothered living. On the bouncy “Mary Mary”, Blaq extends his fascination with women of allure, ambition, and emotional detachment. Mary, the muse in question, is a symbol of the modern, high-maintenance woman who navigates relationships through aesthetics, power, and selective attention.
The pre-released single, “Go Crazy”, is Blaq at his most confident in a high-octane anthem that blurs the line between bravado and brilliance. Over the bouncy, heavy beat, he flexes his creative dominance, mocking doubters and flaunting his longevity in the game: “Yeah, fuck Twitter conversations, it’s GOAT conversations/ Until I meet my maker, I’m the everlasting taker”.
“W For Wetego” brings together Blaqbonez, Young Jonn, and Phyno for one of No Excuses’ standout collaborations. From Young Jonn’s melodic verse to Blaqbonez’s laidback flows, the track glides effortlessly between flex and reflection. Phyno’s verse grounds the track with Igbo grit and proverbs, and together they embody the perseverance and finesse required to thrive in a country where, as Blaqbonez sings, “I dey on my ten toes, follow who sabi road”.
One of the defining traits of Blaqbonez is his astute use of sampling and interpolation. On “California Issues”, he samples Clara La San’s “Want You”, delivering a hazy, late-night confessional that blurs ego, lust, and danger into a single experience. While “Prayers Up” examines grind and gratitude, the single “Louder” is an anthem of survival; a loud, unfiltered celebration of ambition in the face of chaos.
No Excuses winds down with “Stacks”, a track powered by looped electric guitar chords and sax brilliance. When he raps, “Those who no get skill have to focus on just numbers/ Cuz when we talk about the best, you know who they be call now”, it’s hard not to read it as a jab at Odumodublvck, whose recent rants with streaming stats have sparked debate about artistry versus analytics. Lines like “Before I bought the crib, I was living in your head rent-free” encapsulate his signature cockiness, but also his self-awareness. Barry Jhay’s outro is the icing on the cake.
The curtains close with “Star Life II”, a track that sees Blaqbonez in his introspective bag, reflecting on the paradox of fame. Teaming up with Zinoleesky, the duo captures the hollow glitter of success: the parties, the women, the jewelry, all shadowed by a quiet loneliness that lingers beneath. Zinoleesky’s verse amplifies this duality. His airy delivery glides over the beat as he recounts fleeting connections and lingering guilt: “Sorry if I hurt you, but make you no do with another man all the things wey I taught you”. There’s a quiet ache there, buried under the casual indulgence.
No Excuses is a statement project from a rapper who felt the pressure, but refused to break. It’s Blaqbonez reaffirming his status as Nigeria’s Hip-Hop torchbearer, shutting down detractors who questioned his relevance or consistency. It’s not hard to see that the production, spread across a diverse roster of collaborators, gives the record its pulse. From JAE-5’s slick textures to Magicsticks’ bounce and Kofo Sound’s lush layering, every sonic choice amplifies Blaqbonez’s intent.
Lyrically, it may not be his sharpest work. Yet, his pen glides effortlessly between braggadocio and introspection, switching from the ruthless precision of “ACL” and “Good Time” to the self-aware vulnerability of “California Issues” and “Mary Mary”, or coasting over pop-engineered numbers like “W For Wetego”, “Go Crazy”, and “Despacito”. Even at his most playful, Blaq’s writing remains deliberate, packed with witty one-liners that remind listeners why he’s developed a huge following.
Still, no moment looms larger than “ACL”, a record that could prove to be a cultural reset; a diss that reignites rap’s competitive fire while reasserting Blaqbonez’s creative dominance. And while many might speculate that the album is built around “ACL”, that notion fades once one encounters the other gems on the project. Ultimately, No Excuses is a good album; focused and balanced. It marks a creative renewal for Blaqbonez, one that restores the conviction that made him one of Hip-Hop’s loudest voices in the first place.
Lyricism – 1.6
Tracklisting – 1.4
Sound Engineering – 1.5
Vocalisation – 1.4
Listening Experience – 1.7
Rating – 7.6/10
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.