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Текст песни «Prove Something» от Fat Joe

Представляем точный текст композиции "Prove Something" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Fat Joe . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «Prove Something» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Fat Joe передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.

Fat Joe - "Prove Something"

Lyrics to 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 Its nothin realer than this you heard, uh what huh [Verse 1] Its like Im always out to prove somethin Everytime I stop on the block I set up shop and try to move somethin And Im talkin about kilos 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 Yall 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 Im deadin ya crew To tell ya the truth we not stoppin Im like lil lease from b-street man I keep poppin The streets knockin my shit, the ds 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 Cant 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 is dumb fucks I keep a gun tuck under my belly Only nigga on the island makin calls from the celly We watchin belly on the DV, 60 inch TV Flat shit attatch to the back of the CP This game need me, Im like gotti once Im gone All you gonna have left is a bunch of fake dons Champagne with the women, run a game for the puddin Its all the same, still runnin trains with my hoodmen A bunch of goodmen, but dont get it confused We like dinero in heat nigga, nothin to loose I know you seen the shoot out scene Dont make us reneact, cuz I rather be layed up in '' with a featured actress [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 Yea, hell yea, uh brought to you by the realest motherfuckers in this game The infamous terror squad, yea, real niggas, real dons Real Gs haha, come on, woo uh Ton Montana rest in peace forever, never forget.. Big Pun! [ Prove Something Lyrics ]

Содержание трека помогает не только запомнить любимые строки, но и ощутить связь с Fat Joe. Возможно, вы заметите, как лирика «Prove Something» перекликается с вашим опытом, или найдёте ответы на давние вопросы. Эта страница создана для ценителей музыки: здесь вы сохраните текст для личного использования, поделитесь им с друзьями или используете в творчестве. Погружайтесь в мир слов композиции «Prove Something» — каждая строчка здесь обретает новый смысл.




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