| Damn, where that nigga at?
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| Always late for rehearsal, shit
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| Here this nigga come now
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| JT?
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| What’s up my nigga?
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| They waiting for you
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| Aww, man, aight
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| Yeah, I’m finna, I’m finna go in there right now
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| OK
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| You know what I’m sayin'? | 
| Just pop it for you baby
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| OK, OK, OK, OK
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| You’re the Bigga Figga, so let 'em know
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| Feel the funk of a trigger, a Bigga Figga nigga
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| Like my nigga Watchdog, pulled 'em up and give 'em
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| Somethin' to cope with, somethin' to smoke with
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| And if you find a broad, take her home and poke it
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| And let her know, who’s the bonafide mack
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| Get the car, the keys, the house, the ass, the stack
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| So you can chill on the turf
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| And if she act like a jerk, put her mind to work
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| 'Cause in the '92 man, you gotta have game
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| And if ya don’t, it’s a goddamn shame
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| But anyway, on to the Bigga Figga
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| Sippin' malty liquor, the one that tried to giver her
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| A little bit of love, a little bit of pain
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| You know a lot of dirt, and a lot of game
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| 'Cause I’m JT, a young brotha that’ll flow hard
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| Some try to bogart, 'cause they’ve got a credit card
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| No way, 'cause you know I do damage
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| Eat ya like cabbage, but still I manage
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| To beat ya, defeat ya, then I might treat ya
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| To an eighth of dank and if a freak, wear it see-through
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| And by the way man, there’s no comparison
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| To really try to mess with me, is quite embarrassing
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| 'Cause livin' in the world today, is straight media
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| Gotta turn it out, every show that you see me in
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| So let’s take a trip, ah-down history
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| To Sugarhill Gang, Curt Blow, and Run-D.M.C
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| OGs of rap, that stayed on here
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| JT for the Bigga Figga, you can flow with
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| Girls with hugs and kisses
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| No time for play, chick, this business
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| I gotta keep my homies at home, on park
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| So don’t get in my way, before I go to the trunk
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| 'Cause this goin' out to the Fillmore crew (woo-woo)
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| I thought you knew
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| One love to the, what’s up my people?
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| But we all know, who’s the Bigga Figga
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| Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga
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| JT The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga
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| JT The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga
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| The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga
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| Well, I’m JT, I told y’all, The Bigga Figga
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| Check a nigga, because I got a trigga
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| When I rock the mic, I like to rhyme, I like to make you flow
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| Talkin' about that playa JT, is really on
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| Poppin' straight game like I’m O-Town gangsta
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| Girls in the crowd, watch out, 'cause I’ma gank ya
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| Like I said before, in the last rhyme
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| So listen up, for the goddamn last time
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| Get your twelve gauge or get your TEC-9
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| MAC-10, twenty-two, thirty-eight, fine
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| Don’t forget your keys and your beeper
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| Go to your trunk and get your street sweeper
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| So you can clear the street
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| And rid the place of the weak MCs
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| For the 'moe is the reason, steezin'
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| Gotta come fresh for the '92 season
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| Beat on, bass on fat
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| Lyrics tight, 'cause it’s like that
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| The 415, is comin' through
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| So pay your dues, before you get chewed
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| Gobbled, ate up, chomped like PAC-MAN
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| 'Fore I leave, say «peace» to the black man
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| And that’s a taste of the rhyme, I’ma give ya
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| So you can figure out, who’s The Bigga Figga
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| Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga
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| JT The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga
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| JT The Bigga Figga, ha ha
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| Me and JT in the house
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| You know what I’m sayin'
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| That’s my nigga JT
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| My nigga JT popped that shit mayne
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| You know what I’m sayin'? | 
| For the '92
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| We doin' this, ha
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| Yeah
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| JT The Bigga Figga, The Bigga Figga
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| JT
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| Let’s tear up outta here my nigga
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| Alright |