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