Fabolous - Forgive Me Father lyrics

[Fabolous] Unh (uh-huh unh) yea There's alot of money over here (Hahahahahaha) Ha Ha Unh (unh unh unh) Thats word to Brooklyn I'm back I don't know what the f** is wrong with these n***as [Verse 1] Maybe cause I'm eatin And these ba*tards 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 a** like Trina to rub Take home and let her watch the plasma screen in the tub These n***as hate I'm movin so much cash and cream in the club And dont pa** my green on my bub But I'm a fly n***a 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 n***as 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 j**lery 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 bullsh** that theres been And if I had another chance I'd do it again [Verse 2] 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 n***as dont want no beef they want lawsuit settlements n***a! [Chorus] [Verse 3] I'm in a waggy with em pa**in by ya With a baby girl who s** 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 n***a 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!) [Chorus] Thats right I'll do it again n***a (unh yea) I'm a motherf**in ghetto superstar n***a (unh) Desert Storm Street Family (unh) we here (yea) Young G's Salute (yea) Get this f**in money man It's alot of f**in money over here (yea) I don't know what the f** you doin (unh unh yea)