Lyrics Don't Stop Til We Major - JT The Bigga Figga

Don't Stop Til We Major

Niggas always poppin' that shit about The Bigga Figga, huh?
Well, yeah, I’m back y’all, with take two, and it’s on
A young nigga flowin', throwin' like a
Down for a hijack, poppin' like a ghetto thug
Raised in the City of Dope, but not the O
A little fat town, better known as Frisco
The game is real, smooth like a
Flyin' through the city, through the swamp or through the point
Headed back to my home
Talkin' to a chick on a cellular phone
'Cause it’s too much ass, and too much mail
To be six feet under, or sittin' in jail
To the players, of the city of Frisco
Get paid, and smoke an eighth of bendo
'Cause in the '92 it’s the YBG
Dee-Moe, Young Seff and the homie JT
Dank or dope, what’s the mothafuckin' rap?
When I put all my niggas from the 'moe on the map
Sorry my dear, I’m doin' it like this here
I need cash, shoes and gear
Gold Zs on the Lexus, love and affection
A nice spot with a proper kick
So you better just close your mouth
'Fore I kick your ass out your own house
Mackin' ain’t easy stackin'
Listen to the lyrics nigga, I’m not lackin'
Complete with insight, and also intellect
And if you don’t know me, back up, show some respect
While you’re at home, playin' with the Casio
I’m in the studio, but you don’t feel me though
speakers with the 24-track
And the SP-12 with the mothafuckin' EMAC
Mechanically inclined, crushin' a dope rhyme
'Cause you can’t get mine, strapped with a chrome 9
Poppin' that shit, complete with a dank joint
Niggas didn’t know, JT was the one to flow
Fuck the hype, and fuck the media
Got more rhymes than a 'cyclopedia
Give a quick show, feelin' you the hostess
Supercalifragilisticexpial-a-dope-shit
Better yet dope, came from the Cubans
Niggas wantin' shit, 'cause the shit must be smoothin'
But anyway, and ya say I can’t fade ya
But nigga, I won’t stop 'til I’m major
Sayin' «JT couldn’t do it»
To the top and don’t stop 'til we major
Niggas kept sayin' «JT couldn’t do it»
Do it
Do it once again, JT comin' at ya
With the funky beat that you know I gotta rap to
If it ain’t dope, then you know it ain’t me
The brother JT with the YBG
I’m on the go and I cannot stop
Until I reach the tippy-toe, to the top
I’m the one, that they said’d never make it
Once I got started then you know I couldn’t fake it
On the J-O-B because I gotta get mine
Stackin' every dime and then I recline
In the Benz with the leather interior
Playin' my song and I got it in stereo
Hoes on jock, 'cause they know it’s on hit
With a beat, that just won’t quit
Let’s talk about the beat, oh yeah, I made it
All the suckers hate it and the punks can’t fade it
They listen to my rhymes and they say I’m gang related
But I don’t give a damn, because maybe I sprayed 'em
So let me, hip-hop and get to my spot
Break out and mark up my beat, and get to the street
With the funky sound and it’s gotta be complete
Complete, complete
'Cause I’m not the one, to do a half job
You are the one that I have to steal and mob
And jackin' all the brothers for their shit
You knew that JT was the wrong one to mess with
On the delay, and now you want a replay, on
The Bigga Figga the nigga that make you quiver when you shiver
Got to give it a little time
So I can drop a riggity-rhyme
And get my nine, drink a little wine
Or better yet, Grand Marny
So I can shock the party, ya better eat hardy
So I can get punk
And all you suckas gettin' stomped
For tryin' to diss, plus you miss, you smell like fish
So clean your dish
You ho-hearted bitch
Shakin' and breakin' and movin' I’m takin' 'em nigga
Talkin' about the player JT is gonna give 'em
Somethin' they can flow with, somethin' they can go get
At the record store, 'cause they know it’s on hit
But right now, right now I gotta go
Back to the 'moe so I can get my flow
And you say I can’t fade ya
But nigga, I won’t stop 'til I’m major
To the top and don’t stop 'til we major
Niggas kept sayin' «JT couldn’t do it»
To the top and don’t stop 'til we major
Niggas kept sayin' «JT couldn’t do it»
Do it, do it
'Cause it’s all about comin' up nigga
Yeah, that’s goin' out to my nigga Dee-Moe the youngsta
Seff, the mothafuckin' gaffler
And the whole YBG Posse
And this JT The Bigga Figga
And I’m outta here for the '92, mayne