When A-Q released God’s Engineering in 2020, the rapper suggested it would be his last album. Since then, he has gone on a 5-album run – The Live Report, Golden, Ethos, God’s Engineering 2, and Purple Doesn’t Exist – releasing adult contemporary Hip-Hop that excels on the quality of its strong lyricism, depth, and perspective. With 38 years of existence and 22 years of experience in the music industry, A-Q’s experience serves as a canvas, while his lyricism is the paintbrush.
A-Q is that cool uncle whose presence is a guarantee that you’re going to learn something new or be exposed to a different perspective on different subject matters. His music is more than just beats and rhymes – he documents, reflects, and enlightens. He’s lived it, he has learned, and if you listen closely, you will learn too.
While his verses are crafted with elaborate rhyme schemes and punchlines that make the music pleasing to the ears, it’s the themes buried within that keep you coming back. He continues to teach and mentor on the latest instalment of God’s Engineering – the third and final piece, and quite possibly, his final album.
Whenever A-Q releases a new album, a conversation ensues about how it may be his last. With him, every album feels like it could be the last. This one, however, carries a heavy weight of finality.
A seasoned music executive and techpreneur in his own right, A-Q’s journey to acclaim has been a long one. God’s Engineering 3 opens with a brief monologue that summarizes AQ’s journey.
They say the long road builds the strongest hands. While others rush for quick wins, some stay patient—laying bricks in silence. No applause, no shortcuts, just consistency, sacrifice, or vision. What you’re hearing now isn’t luck or timing. It’s the sound of the payoff. This is God’s Engineering.
It’s a glimpse of his process, principles, and the conviction that quietly shaped his greatness. Though he perseveres—life has hit him below the belt several times.
“Dad lost his job, life would take us to the darkest places of where pain was, strife and shame was,” he raps on the album’s opener, Ramlat Timson Str.
He details an unpleasant upbringing describing the situation as chaotic. His father lost his job as a result of government corruption and refused to give in to the temptations of corruption probably due to strong moral conviction. He lost two of his brothers in relatively quick succession and endured a period of being homeless as his parents did everything they possibly could to keep the family afloat.
However, this isn’t a pity party. It’s a celebration, as he tells a story of sheer resilience and triumph. A-Q draws a straight line from discovering Hip-Hop as a wide-eyed young man with dreams of being as famous as Hov and Nas while enjoying the short bursts of fame that came with it, to getting employed at Chocolate City—the label that has contributed greatly to Nigerian Hip-Hop—and eventually meeting and signing Blaqbonez, who is arguably the face of Nigerian Hip-Hop to his 100 Crowns imprint.
“Blaqbonez made it and finally, music paid off,” he raps as signing Blaqbonez has proven to be a game changer. In his review of the first instalment of God’s Engineering, Motolani Alake notes that A-Q’s success was built on his knowledge of the music industry, not significantly from his music. His knowledge of the demands of the industry helped Blaqbonez scale from a niche battle-hardened rapper to the commercially successful force we now know him to be.
The success of Blaqbonez and other ventures like 100 Crowns, The Coronation, and even The Connecthead has aided the music and its reception outside his core fan base.
In a Nigerian society where the value system has been completely destroyed, where money is worshipped as God and acquiring it matters more than how it is acquired, Ramlat Timson Str. is a song of hope. Hope that those who choose the long road are not on an impossible mission, and that hard work, consistency, and sacrifice do eventually pay off.
It’s why a record like Proud of Life feels so powerful. “I’m proud of my life, so I roll up a joint / lucky you still alive,” Qing Madi sings on the hook. It’s a declaration that after everything, there’s still joy in still being alive. The competence of the featured acts – Ajebo Hustlers and Qing Madi – allows for A-Q to take somewhat of a backseat, only coming in to draw the curtain on the record.
While Proud of Life celebrates survival, Die by It is a reminder that though you may be shaped by your immediate environment, you’re not bound to that environment. Assisted by his label signee Bkay, A-Q paints vivid pictures of his life on the streets of Surulere and the unfortunate experiences that defined his youth. Quite similar to the album’s opener, only this time, A-Q digs deeper into life growing up in Surulere, the allure of crime, and its swift and jarring consequences. If Ramlat Timson Str. is a song of hope, Die by It is a warning and an advice: regardless of the environment you are a product of, your fate doesn’t have to be defined by it.
Like the album’s opener, he discusses finding Hip-Hop and how it became a passion and escape for him, even likening it to his medicine. He talks about sharpening his rhymes at Bartho shop and skipping school to rap. For A-Q, rap is a discipline, a culture rooted in truth and mastery, not trends. On Ramlat Timson Str., he says, I found rap, it helped me talk about the things that made us, speaking to the expressive power of the craft, which he used to document his thoughts, struggle, and pain. On Die by It, he raps, “I started reconsidering, working on my rap skills / Hip-Hop was my medicine.” While he may have stumbled into it, he treated the art with respect. He studied, practised, sharpened—even skipping school—communicating his obsession with mastering the craft.
It’s this respect for the craft that drives the venom with which he delivers on the controversial Who’s Really Rapping alongside Blaqbonez. “Very few rappers on my weight class / I’m low-key while they are running their mouth,” he raps on the hard-hitting record, offering his take on the current state of Nigerian Hip-Hop while also questioning the quality of today’s rappers. “When it comes to these bars it’s me versus who? / Feels like I’m condescending,” he raps, landing more blows at whoever the shoe fits. A-Q raps with a conviction that can only be earned after investing decades of dedication to the craft. In terms of skill and penmanship, he sits on the same table as some of the most revered MCees in the world. Like he says, It’s not pride, it’s competence.
He also has bars for clout chasers, social media influencers, and internet gangsters. “Nigga leave me alone (this is class not clout), you on your mobile phone (typing for some clout), I’m making money moves (me I no fit shout), my nigga leave me alone (me I no fit shout),” he raps on the hook over the Beats By Jayy–produced Trap instrumental. It’s a scathing critique of the creative industry and its players. He mocks their fashion choices, and their spending habits, and criticizes the unhealthy obsession with vanity metrics and empty validation, separating himself from the pack as his concerns are about making sure his family is intact and his impact is lasting.
Some of those sentiments bleed into the hard-hitting street-hop cut Loss in Translation, featuring rising rap star Kabex. He briefly fires shots at those who patronise streaming farms while delivering an all-around critique of the system and society. Kabex serves as A-Q’s translator, with his fire flow and explosive delivery perfectly complementing A-Q’s breezy flow and laid-back delivery. Their distinct styles form a perfect mesh, with Kabex bringing urgency and aggression, while A-Q brings seasoned composure and reflection.
On R.O.I, he continues to critique the system, this time zeroing in on his peers—mocking them for their short-sighted ambitions and the cost of chasing industry validation. “Look at how they struggling, sold their cars couldn’t keep up with the opulence / Sold their souls without proofreading the documents, Bentleys and G Wagons now funds are insufficient,” he raps almost in disgust. Poor choices have long-term consequences, and when the reaper eventually comes, it’ll be time to liquidate.
In Class of 66, A-Q embodies different former Nigerian Heads of State. Armed with information from Max Siollun’s Oil, Politics and Violence: Nigeria’s Military Coup Culture (1966–1976), A-Q reconstructs Nigeria’s post-independence power struggles through vivid storytelling and historical detail. Note To Self is a letter to whoever he is in ten years. It’s a personal record where he questions who he’ll become, whether the sacrifices he’s made will be worth it, and if his music will still matter. He touches on his dreams of family life, the desire for stability, and the hope that his art will continue to stand the test of time. He imagines a world where social media has become one big reality show, and flying cars are no longer science fiction. Yet, he offers the most important piece of advice on this album: don’t get lost in chasing what’s next—live now.
On the final record, One Last Time, he reflects from a place of gratitude. “I think about all the things I’ve done, the repercussions I escaped / Now I live with a heart of praise, pray the Lord he guides my ways,” he broods. He doesn’t just reflect, he gives himself a pat on the back. He’s been on a long, lonely road. It’s been an arduous journey. He has battled and fought, broken generational cycles, and now he has found his peace.
It’s a befitting closer to not just this album, but the God’s Engineering series. A truly phenomenal trilogy that forms the gospel to a life of discipline, introspection, truth, and mastery. Across three albums, A-Q provides his blueprint for building a fulfilling life—one rooted in substance. It’s a masterclass. Nigerian pastors charge hundreds of thousands of Naira for such information. A-Q gracefully reveals; he doesn’t sugarcoat it. The road is long and arduous, but if you stay in the boat long enough, you’ll eventually reach the shore.
Is this A-Q’s last album? After all, he says it’s his final piece. We’ll have to see if he can stay away from music for a long time. But whether or not he returns, the work is already immortal. That’s God’s Engineering.
