| There this fool go right there
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| C’mon my nigga, we got some business to handle
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| It’s your mothafuckin' time
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| Me and my nigga, rollin' through the streets of Frisco
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| Strapped in a bucket, puffin' the indo
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| Waitin' on a call from a nigga named Woop
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| 'Cause he want a quarter pound of the sticky green chew
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| Now I never leave my house without my nigga
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| I got the hand, and he got the trigga
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| A perfect combination like Daytons and Vogues
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| A proper show stopper that’ll feed you with hoes
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| Now I’m on my way to my destination
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| Stopped at a light, with a confrontation
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| By marks on the side a me, tryin' to trip
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| So I grabbed my nigga, popped in the clip
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| Now if I set trip, they’ll try to waste me
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| And if I mash, they’ll try to chase me
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| So the best thing to do is hold my composure
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| Niggas start blastin', damn, I told ya
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| I gotta peep game and I gotta be cool
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| 'Cause I feel kinda safe in the four forty-two
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| But the niggas straight popped, but a nigga popped back
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| JT not the one sittin' there gettin' jacked
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| Now I’m rollin', on my way back to Fillmoe
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| Niggas on my shit in a five point oh
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| I don’t know why, I don’t have a clue
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| But handle my business is the only thing to do
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| 'Cause a lotta young niggas go through this
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| But a nigga like me’ll just do this
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| 'Cause you know I’m not down with killin' off the black man
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| But at this time, that’s my only plan
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| I’m in trouble, as you can see
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| So I gotta get them, before they get me
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| I liked the way, that things was goin' down
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| Now these fools was in my part of town
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| Niggas didn’t know about the YBG
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| So I led them fools to a dead-end street
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| Then I jumped out my shit and my finger was itchin'
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| 'Cause the punks musta been outta ammunition
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| Ran up to the car straight blastin' ass
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| Then I hopped in my shit and mashed on the gas
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| They didn’t know why and they could not figure
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| Didn’t need no help, just me and my nigga
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| Me and my nigga, me and my nigga
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| We got to get paid
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| Me and my nigga, me and my nigga
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| We gotta get, where’s my nigga?
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| Damn, why would you ask this?
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| He’s kind of small and he’s made out of plastic
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| You can’t see him, so don’t even trip
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| Only one in the clip, with the hallow-point tip
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| So back up and get it together
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| Father named MAC, mother named Beretta
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| Had a big brother and his name was TEC-9
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| He did the crime, now he gotta do time
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| JT’s in the house, the one on the mic
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| Yeah that’s me, yeah that’s right
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| The one that can flow, the one that can pop it
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| Play a funky beat and you know I’ma drop it
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| Let me tell ya little story about a long time ago
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| When we did a little show, but a nigga didn’t know
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| When it’s time for funk, suckas go to the trunk
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| But all that is, is a high powered punk
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| In the midst of the crowd, with the young and the old’n
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| Didn’t need no gap, 'cause I could come from the shoulders
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| Security with my nigga on stage
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| 'Cause in the back, we had the TEC and the twelve guage
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| Niggas gettin' tipsy, drinkin' Grand Marny
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| Smokin' dank, freakin' hoes in the party
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| Brothas in a rush, gold rings and such
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| From the slightest touch, there’s gonna be a bum rush
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| 'Cause you no they don’t understand grattitude
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| 'Cause every fuckin' nigga in the party got an attitude
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| Bitches on jock
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| Tryna get with a nigga who’s poppin' so they can get a cock
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| Shit was kinda proper
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| Walked through the crowd so I could look at the roster
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| Check it out, see what it say
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| First Huey MC, then us then 4-Tay
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| What a way to go about
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| But before we could shock it, young punks tried to turn it out
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| 'Cause you know we like to rap a lot
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| But everybody’s takin' the fuckin' drama to the parking lot
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| Shit’s so thick, I feel static
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| Niggas ain’t playin', huh, niggas got automatics
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| Against all odds, we had a pump and a TEC
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| But a player like me, demands my respect
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| And you’re talkin' 'bout peace?
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| Brothers start lettin' rounds off in the street
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| Tryin' to play Rambo
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| Rat-tat-tat-tat, now my man dead bro
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| It was so much confusion
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| I was hopin' that it didn’t have to come to this conclusion
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| Damn, a nigga can’t even chill
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| 'Cause tonight, it was kill or be killed
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| They didn’t know why and they could not figure
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| Didn’t need no help, just me and my nigga
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| Me and my nigga, me and my nigga
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| The nine millimeter, and the Bigga Figga
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| Me and my nigga, me and my nigga
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| The nine millimeter, and the Bigga Figga, fool |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Me and My Nigga, artist - JT The Bigga Figga. Album song Don't Stop Til We Major, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп