Song parody of

Prove Something

by Fat Joe

Here's where you get creative! Use our cool song parody creator to make a totally new musical idea and lyrics for the Prove Something song by Fat Joe.

Simply click on any word to get rhyming words suggestion to use instead of the original ones. You may also remove or alter entire lines if needed — when you're done save your work and share it with our community — have fun!

  • English (English)
  • Français (French)
  • Español (Spanish)

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 don't 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 be -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 are are O are 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 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, I'm like gotti once I'm 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 don't get it confused We like dinero in heat nigga, nothin to loose I know you seen the shoot out scene Don't make us reneact, 'cause I rather be laid up in ?? with a featured actress [chorus x2] Its the T E are are O are 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 G's haha, come on, woo uh Ton' Montana rest in peace forever, never forget.. Big Pun!

Done creating your parody?

Don't keep it to yourself! Save it now so you can share it with the rest of the world!

Watch the song video

Prove Something

33,316
150     2

Browse Lyrics.com

Quiz

Are you a music master?

»
"So come on, come on, do the ________ with me"
A Self-Promotion
B Misdevotion
C Locomotion
D Countermotion

Free, no signup required:

Add to Chrome

Get instant explanation for any lyrics that hits you anywhere on the web!

Free, no signup required:

Add to Firefox

Get instant explanation for any acronym or abbreviation that hits you anywhere on the web!

Fat Joe tracks

On Radio Right Now

Loading...

Powered by OnRad.io


Think you know music? Test your MusicIQ here!