"Sexual corruption - cos I'd kill anyone for your time."
On first listen you could mistake it for a lovely Beatlesy theme - "oh, just take the money - I don't care about it...only you." The actual story: "you, girl, are desired by many. Go out with me; I have more money than them. I have so much money that it doesn't matter that you are a grasping she-devil; I am confident my balance will soak up your avarice. Again: I don't care ...cos I gettin plenty."
I took the line at 1:40 to be the baffling, terrifying: "You know dem believers gonna die, die-e-i..." - which made the song's nihilism a more general and inspired sort, as if the narrator's lust and materialism had turned antitheistic - but it turns out to be much less interesting than that ("You no gon' believe, this girl na die, die-e-i..."). Still such smiling brutality!
The Marxian theory of marriage (that monogamous couples are constructions for maximising productivity, subordinating women, and ensuring property rights; that wives have generally been domestic slaves and a socially acceptable kind of prostitute) sounds strange at first. But don't P-square give us here a direct expression of it? "Even though I make real dough, you're the reason there'll be more." (There's also a charming money-sex identity at the end of May D's slightly naff bolt-on verse: "And when I’m done, done / Tell me if you want some more baby.")
I like May D's Yoruba bit: "Farabale ko ma lo le / Omo ele I get pepper / Je n ba e soro, kilon sele", but it's just more of the same "Relax! Baby, I earn money" stuff.
I really hope the phrase "Chop My Money" is just a nonsense idiom they've invented (Nigeria being one of the main sites where Global English dies and is reborn). I don't want to think about anyone ever saying it to their lover sincerely, in disquotation.
I probably wouldn't care so much were it less catchy. A lot of contemporary Afropop (and globalised pop in general) shares its nasty worldview, but only a few songs speak the universal language Crossover Hook Magic. ('Chop My Money' was pretty big in the UK for a couple of weeks last year.) It sucks to force one's feet to think again, but the alternative is not on.