Fat Joe Lyrics
Prove Something
East New York!! oh god!!
Yeah, got that gangsta gangsta gully gully
Yeah, big business, Joe Crack the don
Terror Squad baby, BX boro, holdin down to the death
It's nothin realer than this you heard, uh what huh
[Verse 1]
Its like I'm always out to prove somethin
Everytime I stop on the block
I set up shop and try to move somethin
And I'm talkin about kilo's and pounds
Fuck a desert eagle
I got shit that spit over 300 rounds
Can tell by the scar on my neck
I spar with the best
Joey boombay-ay, hit hard with the left
Sharp with the right, I dont know why I bother
Y'all not retarded
Man ya know what the squadron is like
And he can get it too
But I let him die slow death I probably just collectin his food
I'm deadin ya crew
To tell ya the truth we not stoppin
I'm like lil' lease from b-street man I keep poppin
The streets knockin my shit, the d's watchin my shift
We can do this however, east glock or the fifth
I leave you chumps to frame, right where you standin
Daughter slaughtered and maimed you should have paid the ransom
[chorus x2]
Its the T E R R O R squad, nigga get it right
Its the nigga joe the don
And the kid flow hard, ask the clique
Niggas be like you crazy, he got classic shit
[Verse 2]
Its the killa kid from the bronx
Holdin down to the death
You can hear the squad comin
By the sound of the techs
A hundred rounds in a sec
Leave you on front page
You would think I was down with the ROC
The way I just blazed
I puff haze to keep my mind at ease
Can't wait for the day to see shyne released
This hip hop shit is unjust, who you gon' trust
When most of these record label execs |
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