Intro - P Money

For not believing in fathers we don’t know

Tell me can you blame us?

For not believing in fathers we don’t know

Tell me can you blame us?

Tell me can you blame us?

I had hate for my creator

Only used to see him in the paper

Mum tried to get me to stop stressing

Looking at the front door, wondering and guessing

Now there ain’t a thing that could make me forgive him

Once upon a time my dad asked me how old I was on my birthday

Man I thought he was kidding

After that I started moving different

I stopped ringing his phone and stopped wishing

Started swearing in school, started switching

Wanted to hit him

He played basketball and chased women instead of baby sitting

Or he’d drop me off down to Nicki’s

She played daddy whenever he was busy

I think I met her when I was around five

She was my dad’s girlfriend at the time

When I say at the time I mean that’s what I thought

Until I heard that he was seeing about-- five?

More disappointment, more lies

And every excuse was shit (shit)

Before he even got the job as a dad

It’s like he told my mum that he quit

When Nicki left there was no more trips

She was sitting down with them but that stopped quick

He was a div

All he ever did was visit me on birthdays and bring me gifts

Never raised me or taught me shit!

I guess I just looked like his kid

I gave up when my mum met another

Who introduced me to my step-brother

Both black but not quite the same colour

Still loved each other like we got the same mother

But then I started taking the mick

Running with Bad Boys, Notorious shit

P was the name on everybody’s lips

Rivals, girls and even the pigs

My fam was from Deptford living on Grove street

That’s how I got to know the OGs

I taught myself to stand on both feet

And hold my head higher than a nosebleed

First day of primary went to Deptford Green

Late detentions every day of the week

I got into trouble but never into weed

I was more into backing people’s beef

Athletic but never liked PE

Too busy reppin as a YGB

Year 9 rolling around with Little D

Picked up a hobby and started to MC

Skip a few years, 6310

Bluetoothing everybody on the weekend

Made a tune called «My Soldiers»

Mentioning so many names it reunited in the end

But still a bad boy of course

Of my own will, nobody is forced

It was all good, until I got caught

Aged fifteen, found myself in court

My fam was like «nah, this ain’t P»

I was about to do my GCSEs

Instead I’m in Camberwell with my solicitor

Talking about my not guilty plea

I didn’t know what was gonna happen

My three years in jail could’ve happened

And the case looked mad at the time

The only support I had was from my mum and Sharon

Thinking to myself «this shit’s fucked»

Had me on tag for the whole six months

I called my dad, sent him texts, left him voicemails

But the guy wouldn’t pick up

And there’s me thinking he would’ve fixed up

Then randomly out of the blue I got a text from him

Saying «it's gonna be alright, good luck»

Oh my days, what the fuck

You might as well say you don’t give a fuck

But luckily I got not guilty

The funny thing is I actually weren’t guilty

I could’ve been in jail aged fifteen

Cause this man weren’t around to guide me, you feel me?

Only my mum could’ve healed me

And you know what?

She done a good job

She trusted me to follow my dreams

Instead of forcing me to go get a job

I owe this life to my mum (Amen)

I owe this life to my mum (Amen)

And you can’t put a price on her love (Amen)

But the story gets worse believe me

I got violent, rude and greedy

But we’d be here all day

So I’ll save that for another CD

For not believing in fathers we don’t know

Tell me can you blame us?

For not believing in fathers we don’t know

Tell me can you blame us?

Tell me can you blame us?