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lirik lagu did you get yo geez – jt the bigga figga

[intro: jt the bigga figga + playa p]
playa p
ay, what’s up, figga, mayne?
what’s up, baby boy?
aw man, i’m just chillin’, mayne. i heard you’re tryna get the grip
aw man, i’m tryna get my m-th-f-ckin’ paper, baby boy
g’s after g’s happily
yeah, you know what i’m sayin’
you know they can’t fade this glp sh-t
aw, nah, nah, nah
hahaha, so what’s up, baby?
it goes down; ay man, handle that though, bruh
yeah, i’ma handle it, cousin

[verse 1]
on a mission for the scrilla, these n-ggas be acting faulty
no game up inside their mind but these n-ggas be trying to cross me
but listen, what i be kickin’ is strictly for those who flossin’
’cause n-ggas be on the block be going broke and double crossing
when it’s related by power, the dollar’s always the issue
accommodated by cowards but more than softer than tissue
my occupation’s confetti but then my fetti’s my focus
the glp is the dopest so ain’t no way that you wrote this

[chorus]
did you get your bank? did you get your g’s?
beware on the block because it’s time to say ‘freeze’
straight chill in the westside bay
where each and every day the hustlers play
did you get your bank? did you get your g’s?
beware on the block because it’s time to say ‘freeze’
straight chill in the westside bay
where each and every day the hustlers play

[verse 2]
paper chasing, ’bout my mackin’ ’cause n-ggas be stacking paper
’cause paper’s what everybody’s after, so check the final chapter
disaster’s given ’cause n-ggas living on the wrong side
y’all rising stop, four-deep to make it all right
what could they be doing, pursuing another scheme
’cause suckers be serving dreams with triple beams and soda cream
a half a thang of cola with all the dips in ’em
from bank heists to motorolas with the chips in ’em

[verse 3]
it’s getting critical, situation getting deeper
multi-talented, poppin’ like a street sweeper
recognized by my foes and my enemies
everybody little kids wants to be some glp’s
we’s tighter than the next one, they flex some
fully automatic player hater type of set guns
check a punk if you break ’em off properly
sideways to boardwalk, ’95 monopoly
ain’t no stoppin’ me, once a player get to going
get to flowin’, and that’s when they get to knowin’
who’s the tightest with the sh-t that you’re hearing
and you’re mashing in your load danked out and you’re steering
up the block in your benz or your beam 4
6-by-9’s sounding like 18’s
then you knew that the low was gonna take it
in the 1995, man, them boys, they gots to make it

[verse 4]
pick your choice which you was given by these
consolidated, conversated, now i’m stacking my g’s
on an uphill climb so i be finding
keep your head bobbing and your tape deck rewinding
minding my own when i roll through my area
dice games and shootouts and pit bull terriers
and tricked by confusion the moment they awaken, it was hectic
steadily getting their paper but they feel disrespected

- jt the bigga figga

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