Lyrics The Bigga Figga - JT The Bigga Figga

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