It's that Silicon Valley flow
I got that sun dance vision, nigga you ain't know
Got damn, I got album of the year, still
Three packs in, imagine how these wack rappers feel
I've been killin' niggas all year
Bill, me and them white folk names got somethin' in common
Bills, I got 'em, I've been at rich houses, I've been to rich hills
The homie got that Tommy, know that's somethin' that he'll feel
Look though, been really off the hook though
My fam straight, my homies got money on their books though
Lately my bitch been trippin' on me
I'm like Bitch I'm in the studio, let me cook though
RJ killin' shit, my homies is killin' shit
But I'm tryna convince 'em to be on some drug dealin' shit
I can't blame 'em cause their mamas, they don't give a shit
So I fronted them some work, told 'em they can get rich
Get rich, get rich, get rich
Mama I finally get it, hustle hard then get rich
Lately, I've been on some solo shit
Cortez, long socks, I've been on my cholo shit
Bitch you keep trippin', I'ma let bygones be bygones
Walk up in the house with high nines, I'm like Hi mom
But I'm right back on my nigga shit
Like what, she fuckin' and suckin', she with the shit, let's flip this bitch
Let's flip a pound, send it out of town, then bust it down
And no respect for the hoes that wasn't fuckin', but fuck it now
Bust it down, bust it down, bust it down
You can profit three thousand and five hundred dollars if you bust it down
Send me the plan, I'ma figure how to execute
My management like hold up YG, I'm like, I ain't waitin' on you
It's that two thousand and fifteen flow
Kill yourself if you ain't gettin' dough
Hold up, keep winning, keep winning, keep winning
You gotta speak it to existence, nigga, keep winning
They said Dre made a billion
I'm like, shit, I can do it if he did it
Fuckin' on whatshisname's babymama
Her pussy loose, her walls broke down, she ain't got no ceilings
They was like, YG you shouldn't go there
I said, Bitch, I think I'm Silkk the Shocker, I got no limits
Fuck these niggas, they ain't livin' what they talkin' 'bout
Even with a million dollars I'll still spark it out
Fuck these niggas, fuck these niggas, fuck these niggas
They wasn't shootin' with me in the gym so fuck these niggas
I'm Ruff Rydin', where my dogs at?
Where them niggas that fuck them bitches on their paws at?
Nigga two thousand and fifteen
On the front porch sellin' twenty sacks for fifteen, nigga

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Keenon Daequan Ray Jackson