Lil Reese
Prove Sum
[Intro: Fredo Santana]
Corey Lingo, what's up man?
Squad shit
Savage Squad shit, bitch
Savage Squad shit, bitch
Fredo, what up man?
Fredo & Lil Reese, we in this bitch
Reese Money, what's up man?

[Chorus: Fredo Santana]
Ay, ay
I done ran up that paper, I got that new money
Lame n***as hatin', but ain't gon’ do nothin’
You gon’ make me grab my chopper and just shoot somethin'
You gon’ make me grab my chopper & just shoot somethin'
Say you got a body n***a prove somethin' (prove sum)
Make me grab my chopper and just shoot somethin'
Say you gotta body n***a prove somethin'

[Verse 1: Lil Reese]
All my n***as grimy, we gon do somethin'
Say you gotta chopper, n***a shoot somethin'
Skeet off from the scene, it was two somethin'
Skeet off from the scene, I got to dumpin'
Now I ain't with the talk, cause I'ma do somethin'
Miss me with the talking, n***a you bluffin'
This shit get so deep, man I said fuck my cousin
Hit that bitch and put her out like it was nothin'
Smoking out the pound, we used to roll fob nothin'
Used to be my mans, now like at you like nothin'
I came up from nothing, now I'm on to somethin'
And none of that shit can't stop me, n***a cause I'mma keep hustlin'
[Chorus: Fredo Santana]
Ay, ay
I done ran up that paper, I got that new money
Lame n***as hatin', but ain't gon’ do nothin’
You gon’ make me grab my chopper and just shoot somethin'
You gon’ make me grab my chopper & just shoot somethin'
Say you got a body n***a prove somethin' (prove sum)
Make me grab my chopper and just shoot somethin'
Say you gotta body n***a prove somethin'

[Verse 2: Fredo Santana]
Light up a fuck n***a crib in broad day (damn)
Can't find that n***a, shoot where his momma stay (fuck it)
Three killers with me, damn in your driveway (damn)
Deebo a n***a, snatch his chain like Friday (Fuck him!)
Trap or die, I get mine the harder way (what?)
And you can't get a penny like Tim Hardaway (trap!)
I juug, finesse, I get mine the smarter way (juug)
Pull up with AK's where your son and daughter stay (glahh)
Extort a lame n***a, man he gotta pay (fuck him!)
I put that bag on your head if I gotta pay (fuck him!)
Kill a n***a, I ain't like his ass anyway
Lil folks shoot you in the face, I ain't gotta spray (boss)

[Outro: Fredo Santana]
Ay, ay
I done 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 ass tough n***as
Say you out here man
Do something man
N***a turn up
Squad shit man