Lyrics
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?