For anyone following the pulse of Nigeria’s evolving sound, the name Danpapa GTA has become a recurring one in the new gear, thanks to his viral song “Ikeja (No Go Thief).” But before the spotlight and viral TikTok moments, the artist-producer, born Akinlemibola Daniel Omotoyosi, was a quiet kid from Ikotun, Lagos, who spent much of his life mastering silence and watching from the sidelines.
In this AsToldTo, Danpapa GTA takes us behind digital fame to his transition from a childhood defined by isolation to an adulthood and career built on the understanding that presence is currency.
This is Danpapa GTA’s story as told to Marv
People ask about the name that follows me everywhere now. They want to know what GTA means after Danpapa. It means Genuine Type of Artist. But Danpapa comes from a different place. It’s Dan from one of my names, Daniel. The “Papa” because when I was younger, everyone called me Small Papa. I was the youngest around my uncle, whom everyone called Papa. I was the favourite, the little one, so I became Small Papa.
I’m not actually young anymore, but if they’re going to call me that, I want to be Danpapa now. That’s my name, but my story is bigger than that and even “Ikeja (No Go Thief).”
To understand where I’m coming from, you have to look at my background. When I was younger, my dad was well-to-do. He was an auto engineer who only repaired Mercedes-Benz cars. He had cars, a Baby Benz, other types of Benz and a Hilux truck. There was no toy I didn’t have. I lacked nothing and lived well; I might have passed for a Nepo Baby. But things changed when I was around six.
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My mom and dad said they wanted to give their lives to Jesus Christ. My dad decided to become a full-time evangelist. He quit his engineering job to follow God, and the money stopped coming in. I didn’t really enjoy the wealth. My siblings did, and I had to switch to another primary school with lower fees.
I was seven or eight years old when I started feeling it. That was when I realised things had changed. This sudden change in my family dynamics made me realise early that life is not easy.
Primary school in Ikotun was a total shit life. People didn’t like me. Not my mates, not my teachers, no one. They didn’t include me in plans. I felt unwanted. Most of it was the teachers; they treated me so badly that I was afraid to speak. I was always scared and shivering, which was even worse because people made fun of me for that too. I was the silent kid nobody wanted to sit beside.
I recall a moment in Primary Three when I was very sick, drooling in class. I was too scared to tell the teacher because I feared being beaten. I tried to inform her, but decided to rush to the toilet instead. Eventually, she noticed I was sick and had shit myself. Instead of helping me or showing kindness, she beat the living daylight out of me. My classmates laughed at me throughout that day.
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My experience at that school contributed to my isolation. If I drew something while everyone was out and tried to show it, the teacher would tell me to shut up and go back to my seat. There was no one guiding or backing me. When everyone else was busy playing and not talking to me, I was alone in class. That is when the creativity started. I was always isolating myself. It was either that I was drawing or writing rap. It was the only way I could cope, even though I believed people would laugh at me if I spoke.
My mom even has zero knowledge of most of these events. At one of our school parties, when she asked where my friends were, I told her they were “in the backyard.” I didn’t want to spoil her mood by telling her how they treated me there.
By the end of my primary education, I could draw, rap, and dance, but kept it hidden. I could go 24 hours without speaking. Everything changed when I switched schools in JSS1, attending Amicable College in Ikotun. Fees were cheap too, ₦9,000 per session. It was a private school, and even though it was rougher, it was where I finally felt safe.. People at this new school discovered I could rap and suddenly, everyone treated me differently. People wanted to be around me. They would ask me to drop bars and I would. . They took me to a teacher and said, “This guy is cool.” During break time, we would go to the backyard and rap and dance. That was when I built friendships and felt like this part of me didn’t need to be hidden. My confidence grew because I had something to offer.
Teachers liked me because I could draw. They would call me to the staff room — a place I used to be too scared to enter, let alone say “hi” to a teacher — and ask me to draw skeletons and biology diagrams.
I quickly learned then that life is a trade. You need to have something to offer people. You can’t just be a person doing nothing. People need a reason to like you. It’s why I don’t even write songs about bullying now. I left it behind, but I understand life better because of it. If I remember it too much, I’ll just break down. But also, sometimes, when I look back on that period, despite how dark it was and how sad it makes me feel, I dismiss it as a normal thing. I believe that’s just life sometimes.
The old me who was bullied wouldn’t recognise who I am today. That boy could never imagine me being able to shout, dance or express myself freely. But the old feeling still comes sometimes. In gatherings, especially with celebrities, I only observe. I watch, wait, and understand the room before speaking, because I don’t want people to think I’m weird.
I have a different fear now. Success has brought a new kind of anxiety. I study artists who made one viral song and disappeared. I see people treated the way I was in primary school once their buzz dies. I don’t want to fail at all. Failing will destroy me because I don’t think I have anything else to offer but music. I have to keep going because nobody else can do it for me. That’s why I work so hard.
I’ve been out of my mom’s house since 2023, when I was just 18. She’s always worried about me, but I had to get out and grind for myself. Now, I’m living with friends who knew me before the fame. They keep me grounded. My focus is to make enough money so my family is okay. And maybe even make enough to erase worries, then maybe I’ll retire early.
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