sittin' on top of the world

you wanna know what the fuck i heard, bitch?, i heard you wanna carbon copy me, not possible to succeed. bustin nigga's kneecaps, cuz greed is fuckin wit weed, gimme more cheddar than ellie, no hillbilly from beverly, heavely sedated, still hated and rated r, you the next victim, and if you flinch you fall, i got that 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 fucking sense, get relentless when it comes to stacking 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. sittin on top of the world, sittin on top of the world, with 50 grand in my hand, steady puffin on a blunt, sippin hennessy and coke, gimme what you won't. sittin on top of the world, sittin on top of the world, with my legs swingin, jewelry jingling baby, go head baby. lemme hit you with some real pump pump, it's the number one contender, so so def memeber known as brat, girlfriend offender cuz they man's think i'm all that, krystal in my lap, chronic chokin me, nigga's 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 mother fuckers dense, one of the baddest bitches on the planet. act like you know it's the funk bandit dammit, and you can't stand it. you can run, but you can't hide, from this bad mannered individu-al gal from the west side, hit em up. i can't quick stick like the bottom of an ostrich, hung in your pants, hotness from your bull-shit, and it's written all over your face, you want my space but ain't got what it takes to take my place. now best believe i got more trix up my sleeve, then that silly rabbit, all day dream about g's and how i gots to have it, gotta weed habit, but i'm still on point, one of the most wanted to rock off somebody's joint. it be the b-r-a-t, the mind blower, the rough rhyme thrower, mother fuckers can't see, riding drop top roadsters, fuck all that gold stuff, only triangles dangle when i bust. you see, niggas round town called this and that, said i sound like the pound and my shit was wack. dropped the album funkdafied and they thought it was bold, 30 days later, the lp went gold, and i'm.