Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Sins Of Our Fathers , by - The Game. Release date: 29.09.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sins Of Our Fathers |
| Sins of our fathers |
| Father, forgive me |
| And after all I gave you stole my name |
| And took away from me |
| Our founding fathers |
| What have you gave to me? |
| I’ve been the victim of a broken home |
| You stole away from me |
| Sins of our fathers |
| Sins of our fathers |
| I could hit you with the «Yes master», |
| Or I could close the box on your ass like cold pizza |
| Whips and chains, brain gone, mind in shackles |
| Cam Newton, a Black Panther hard to tackle |
| Mix the moonshine with the Snapple |
| The White House a plantation |
| But they’re teachin' our kids it’s a castle |
| Built by slaves, my guilt by trade, the maze |
| Lab rats pickin' cotton inside invisible cages |
| House nigga, he hate us more than the massa |
| Burn his own church and smile in the face of the pastor |
| The last days, drinkin' our own sweat in the field |
| Either kneel or you get your ass killed |
| Sins of our fathers |
| Father, forgive me |
| And after all I gave you stole my name |
| And took away from me |
| Our founding fathers |
| What have you gave to me? |
| I’ve been the victim of a broken home |
| You stole away from me |
| Sins of our fathers |
| Sins of our fathers |
| They gave my great-great grandfather lashes 'cause he stole a fuckin' horse |
| Now 500 horsepower in my mothafuckin' Porsche |
| As I light my torch on this Mississippi porch |
| Let the Mississippi River shatter windows on my |
| Corpses is, of course this is, genocide |
| I’m in the same church where little kids and women died |
| I can hear the voices, ropes around throats |
| Separated our families when they stacked us on them boats |
| Choke, as your legs shake you start to lose hope |
| Wishin' the branch would break, but nope |
| Soon as your neck snap, they start laughin' and takin' pictures |
| 'Cause to them you ain’t nothin' but a mothafuckin' nigga |
| 500 years later, I’m in the club |
| Chain on my neck, Harriet Tubman on the dub |
| Ben Franklin on the hundred, Hamilton on the ten |
| Even in death, she still surrounded by white men |
| Sins of our fathers |
| Father, forgive me |
| And after all I gave you stole my name |
| And took away from me |
| Our founding fathers |
| What have you gave to me? |
| I’ve been the victim of a broken home |
| You stole away from me |
| Sins of our fathers |
| Sins of our fathers |
| Sins of our fathers |