Fredo Santana - Prove Sum lyrics

[Intro] Call a n***a say what's up man Squad sh** Savage Squad sh** b**h Savage Squad sh** b**h Fredo what up man Fredo man Lil Reesy we in this b**h Reesy, hey what's up man [Hook: Fredo Santana] I’da ran up that paper I got that new money Lame n***as hatin’ but they ain't gon’ do nothin’ You gon’ make me grab my chopper and just shoot something You gon’ make me grab my chopper & just shoot something Say you got a body n***a prove something (prove sum) Make me grab my chopper and just shoot something Say you gotta body n***a prove something [Verse 1: Lil Reese] All my n***as grimy, we gon do something Say you gotta chopper, n***a shoot something Skeet off from the scene, it was two something Skeet off from the scene, I got two thumping Now I ain't with the talk, cause I'ma do something Miss me with the talking, n***a you bluffing This sh** get so deep, man I said f** my cousin Hit that b**h and put her out like it was nothing Smoking out the pound, we used to roll for nothing Used to be my mans, now like at you like nothing I came up from nothing, now I'm on to something And all this sh** can't stop me, cause I'm keep hustling [Hook: Fredo Santana] Ay I’da ran up that paper I got that new money Lame n***as hatin’ but they ain't gon’ do nothin’ You gon’ make me grab my chopper and just shoot something You gon’ make me grab my chopper & just shoot something Say you got a body n***a prove something (prove sum) Make me grab my chopper and just shoot something Say you gotta body n***a prove something [Verse 2: Fredo Santana] Light up a f** n***a crib in broad day Can't find that n***a, shoot where his momma stay (f** it) Three k**ers with me there in your driveway Deebo a n***a, snatch his chain like Friday Trapper died gimmie all his heart away You can't get a penny like Tim Hardaway I jug, finesse, I get mine the smarter way Pull up with AK's where your son and daughter stay Extort a lame n***a, yeah he gotta pay I put that bag on your head if I gotta pay k** a n***a, I ain't like his a** anyway Lil folks shoot you in the face, I ain't gotta spray [Outro: Fredo Santana] Ay, ay I’da ran up that paper I got that new money Lame n***as hatin’ but they ain't gon’ do nothin’ You gon’ make me grab my chopper and just shoot something Fake a** tough n***as Say you out here man Do something man n***a turn up Squad sh** man