Forgive Me Father

[Fabolous] Yea There's a lot of money over here Ha Ha That's word to Brooklyn I'm back I don't know what the fuck is wrong with these niggas Maybe cause I'm eating And these bastards fiend for my grub I carry pumps like I serve gasoline to these scrubs Have you seen my Aston leaning on dubs And they can't afford chrome so they putting Vaseline on they hubs I'm looking 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 moving so much cash and cream in the club And don't pass my green on my bub But I'm a fly niggag that don't do much to pull her and dick her Everyday I'm popping a tab and pulling a sticker Everyday I'm switching the tags and pulling up sicker Every "K" I'm loading the mags with bullets to flicker And I ain't hesitating homie I'm pulling 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 [Chorus:] Forgive me father for I have sinned But look at all this money that I spend And look at all this jewelry 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 there's been And if I had another chance I'd do it again Anywhere the kid move you know the hammers'll be with me Poking 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 That's 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 don't want no beef they want lawsuit settlements Nigga! [Chorus] 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 Getting stressed by these hotties is regular I got a magazine to press to your body like editors Test me somebody I'm begging ya I got the Gatling gun like Jesse The Body in Predator I'm a hustler I don't 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 tearing the walls up in your miss in exchange for a small cup Of the Cris And while you at probation filling a small cup full of piss I'm in a coupe with a roof that ball up like a fist (Catch up!) [Chorus] That's right I'll do it again nigga (yea) I'm a motherfucking ghetto superstar nigga Desert Storm Street Family we here (yea) Young G's Salute (yea) Get this fucking money man It's a lot of fucking money over here (yea) I don't know what the fuck you doing (yea)