The Bigga Figga - JT The Bigga Figga

Damn, where that nigga at?

Always late for rehearsal, shit

Here this nigga come now

JT?

What’s up my nigga?

They waiting for you

Aww, man, aight

Yeah, I’m finna, I’m finna go in there right now

OK

You know what I’m sayin'?

Just pop it for you baby

OK, OK, OK, OK

You’re the Bigga Figga, so let 'em know

Feel the funk of a trigger, a Bigga Figga nigga

Like my nigga Watchdog, pulled 'em up and give 'em

Somethin' to cope with, somethin' to smoke with

And if you find a broad, take her home and poke it

And let her know, who’s the bonafide mack

Get the car, the keys, the house, the ass, the stack

So you can chill on the turf

And if she act like a jerk, put her mind to work

'Cause in the '92 man, you gotta have game

And if ya don’t, it’s a goddamn shame

But anyway, on to the Bigga Figga

Sippin' malty liquor, the one that tried to giver her

A little bit of love, a little bit of pain

You know a lot of dirt, and a lot of game

'Cause I’m JT, a young brotha that’ll flow hard

Some try to bogart, 'cause they’ve got a credit card

No way, 'cause you know I do damage

Eat ya like cabbage, but still I manage

To beat ya, defeat ya, then I might treat ya

To an eighth of dank and if a freak, wear it see-through

And by the way man, there’s no comparison

To really try to mess with me, is quite embarrassing

'Cause livin' in the world today, is straight media

Gotta turn it out, every show that you see me in

So let’s take a trip, ah-down history

To Sugarhill Gang, Curt Blow, and Run-D.M.C

OGs of rap, that stayed on here

JT for the Bigga Figga, you can flow with

Girls with hugs and kisses

No time for play, chick, this business

I gotta keep my homies at home, on park

So don’t get in my way, before I go to the trunk

'Cause this goin' out to the Fillmore crew (woo-woo)

I thought you knew

One love to the, what’s up my people?

But we all know, who’s the Bigga Figga

Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga

JT The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga

JT The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga

The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga

Well, I’m JT, I told y’all, The Bigga Figga

Check a nigga, because I got a trigga

When I rock the mic, I like to rhyme, I like to make you flow

Talkin' about that playa JT, is really on

Poppin' straight game like I’m O-Town gangsta

Girls in the crowd, watch out, 'cause I’ma gank ya

Like I said before, in the last rhyme

So listen up, for the goddamn last time

Get your twelve gauge or get your TEC-9

MAC-10, twenty-two, thirty-eight, fine

Don’t forget your keys and your beeper

Go to your trunk and get your street sweeper

So you can clear the street

And rid the place of the weak MCs

For the 'moe is the reason, steezin'

Gotta come fresh for the '92 season

Beat on, bass on fat

Lyrics tight, 'cause it’s like that

The 415, is comin' through

So pay your dues, before you get chewed

Gobbled, ate up, chomped like PAC-MAN

'Fore I leave, say «peace» to the black man

And that’s a taste of the rhyme, I’ma give ya

So you can figure out, who’s The Bigga Figga

Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga

JT The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga

JT The Bigga Figga, ha ha

Me and JT in the house

You know what I’m sayin'

That’s my nigga JT

My nigga JT popped that shit mayne

You know what I’m sayin'?

For the '92

We doin' this, ha

Yeah

JT The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga

JT

Let’s tear up outta here my nigga

Alright