Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Forgive Me Father , by - Fabolous. Release date: 13.01.2003
Song language: English
Forgive Me Father |
| Maybe cause I’m eatin And these bastards fiend for my grub |
| I carry pumps like I serve gasoline to these scrubs |
| Have you seen my Aston leanin on dubs |
| And they can’t afford chrome so they puttin vasoline on they hubs |
| I’m lookin for a girl with a ass like Trina to rub |
| Take home and let her watch the plasma screen in the tub |
| These niggas hate I’m movin so much cash and cream in the club |
| And dont pass my green on my bub |
| But I’m a fly nigga that don’t do much to pull her and dick her |
| Everyday I’m poppin a tab and pullin a sticker |
| Everyday I’m switchin the tags and pullin up sicker |
| Every K I’m loadin the mags with bullets to flicker |
| And I aint hesitatin homie I’m pullin it quicker |
| So you can act tough After a few pulls on some liquor |
| Got em pullin on niggas |
| And they won’t be goin nowhere for a while |
| They might as well pull out a snicker Ye-Ye-Yea |
| Forgive me father for I have sinned |
| But look at all this money that I spend |
| And look at all this jewlery that I’m in And look at all the places that I’ve been |
| And look at all the women in those brims |
| Look at the blue flames that I’m in I look at all the bullshit that theres been |
| And if I had another chance I’d do it again |
| Anywhere the kid move you know the hammers’ll be with me Pokin out the shirt like a Pamela Lee titty |
| I went on tour brought the samples of D wit me Came back a month later bought a Lambo for three-fifty |
| Think I throw you grams if you read with me Just because you see me on the camera with P. Diddy |
| Dammit we P-driddy??? |
| Now I got G with me Along with the third leg that I be rammin in these bitties |
| I keep the revolver you hope my gun’ll jam |
| But with the soap its gonna blam |
| The info put freckles on your face like Opie Cunningham |
| Thats why I’m watched by the Feds and scoped by Uncle Sam |
| Dope and hunn-ed (hundred) grams rope and hunn-ed grams |
| At the same time our artist get to open Summer Jam |
| Hope you understand or use better sense |
| These niggas dont want no beef they want lawsuit settlements Nigga! |
| I’m in a waggy with em passin by ya With a baby girl who suck harder than Maggie on a pacifier |
| What I’m smokin’ll have you aggie as your last supplier |
| When you can smell it through the bag you know that’s some fire |
| Gettin stressed by these hotties is regular |
| I got a magazine to press to your body like editors |
| Test me somebody I’m beggin ya I got the gatling gun like Jesse The Body in Predator |
| I’m a hustler I dont sling no rocks to the fiends now |
| Got dudes who sit on corners like a boxer between rounds |
| Any other dude who dish rocks want beef |
| Cause I chop jobs bigger than Chris Rock front teef |
| I’m the nigga tearin the walls up in your miss in exchange for a small cup |
| of the Cris |
| And while you at probation fillin a small cup full of piss |
| I’m in a coupe with a roof that ball up like a fist (Catch up!) |
| Thats right I’ll do it again nigga (unh yea) |
| I’m a motherfuckin ghetto superstar nigga (unh) |
| Desert Storm Street Family (unh) we here (yea) |
| Young G’s Salute (yea) |
| Get this fuckin money man |
| It’s alot of fuckin money over here (yea) |
| I don’t know what the fuck you doin (unh unh yea) |