Letra Sittin' on the top of the world Da Brat

Sittin' on the top of the world

Intro
Sittin' on top of the world...
Huh, I done heard this shit. You wanna know what the fuck I heard bitch?
I heard you wanna carbon copy me, not possible to succeed,
Bustin' niggas knee caps, cause greed is fuckin' with weed,
Give me more chedder than ellie, no Hillbilly from Beverly,
Heavily sedated, still hated and Rated R,
You the next victim, and if you flinch you fall,
I got the sure shot method, guaranteed to make a nigga pause,
Peep the cars I'm in, uncountable amount of Benjamin's, Benzes for all my friends,
If it don't make dollars, you ain't makin' no fuckin' sense,
Get relentless when it comes to stackin' chips and shit,
Try to take mine to thy nine be the glory,
Unloaded at the end of the story,
I'm on top of the world, nigga...
Chorus:
Sittin' on top of the world, sittin' on top of the world,
With fifty grand in my hand, steady puffin' on a blunt,
Sippin' Hennessey and Coke, givin' ya what you want.
Sittin' on top of the world, sittin' on top of the world,
With my legs swinging, jewelry jinglin' baby,
Go ahead baby, let me hit ya with some real pump, pump.
Its the number one contender, So So Def member known as Brat,
Girlfriend offender because the mans think I'm all that,
Crystal in my lap, chronic chokin' me,
Niggas hopin' we fall off, but we won't, we don't,
All we do is keep fuckin' it up,
While all you do is keep lookin' at us,
Known evidence is that I dispense hits,
And make more house quakes than Prince,
Leavin' muthafuckas dense, one of the baddest bitches on the planet,
Act like you know, its the funk bandit, damnit, and you can't stand it,
You can run, but you can't hide from this bad mannered individual,
Gal from the West Side, hit 'em up,
I came quick, stick like the bottom of some ostrich,
Holdin' your fans hostage from your bullshit,
And its written all over your face, you want my space,
But ain't got what it takes to take my place.
Chorus
Now best believe, I got more tricks up my sleeve than that silly rabbit,
All day dream about cheese and how I gots to have it,
Got a weed habit, but I'm still on point,
One of the most wanted to rock off somebody's joints,
It be the B-R-A-T, the mind blower, the rough rhyme thrower,
Muthafuckas can't see, ridin' drop top roadsters,
Fuck all that gold stuff, only triangles dangle when I bust,
You see, niggas round town talked this and that,
Said I sound like the Pound and my shit was wack,
Dropped the album Funkdafied and you thought it was bold,
But thirty days later the LP went gold.
Chorus
Outro: Manuel Seal
Sitting... ohh yaa... sitting... down wit' my girl