FRANCHISE Lyrics by Travis Scott ft. Young Thug & M.I.A. is latest English song with music also given by Travis Scott, Teddy Walton & CHASE B. FRANCHISE song lyrics are written by Maurice Gleaton, Jamall Willingham, Gerald Tiller, Bernard Leverette, Teddy Walton, CHASE B, M.I.A., Young Thug & Travis Scott.
FRANCHISE Song Detail
Singer: Travis Scott, Young Thug, M.I.A.
Composer: Travis Scott, Teddy Walton & CHASE B
Lyrics by: Maurice Gleaton, Jamall Willingham, Gerald Tiller, Bernard Leverette, Teddy Walton, CHASE B, M.I.A., Young Thug & Travis Scott
FRANCHISE Lyrics
Yeah
Yeah-yeah, yeah
Mmm-hmm-hmm
Mmm-hmm-hmm
Yup, in my white tee, yeah
Call up Hype Williams for the hype, please
Uh, they gon’ wipe you, before you wipe me
On boxes of checks, not my Nikes (Yeah)
Cacti’s, not no iced tea (Ah)
Uh, got ’em bamboozled like I’m Spike Lee (Ah)
Uh, you need more than Google just to find me (Ah)
Uh, I just called up bae to get a hi-fey (Ah, ooh)
Incredible, ici-ici general
I just start the label just to sign me (Woo, woo, woo)
Uh, me and CHASE connected like we Siamese (Woo, woo, woo, ooh, ooh)
We been on the run, felt like a crime spree
Talk to me nicely (Yeah), I seen his face (Seen it)
Yup, on his white tee, uh (Let’s go)
Yeah, yeah, call the Sprite people (Call ’em, hol’ on, brrt)
Private flight to France, tryna sight-see (On private flights, brrat)
Popped ’em in his hands, he was typin’ (Da, da, da)
Caterpillar ‘Rari, I fold it, lift it up (Up)
I went on the stand, told the judge to pass my cup (Ayy)
Ran up twenty million, told the Devil, “Keep the luck” (Luck)
Keep the, keep the ho (Uh-uh), RIP Pop, keep that smoke (Ayy, slatt)
Ayy, talk to me nicely (Talk to me nicely)
Keep her on the chain, that ain’t like me (That ain’t like me)
Scotts with no strings, you can’t tie me (Scotts with the, hol’ on, bitch)
I’m higher than the plane, I’m where the Skypes be (Doo, doo, doo, doo, hee)
Yeah, yep, in my slime tee (Doo, doo, doo, hee)
Princey in his prime, hee (Doo, doo, doo, doo, hee)
Yellowbone too feisty, hee (Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, hee)
Clean him up, no napkin, hee (Doo)
Yup, in my white tee (Yeah), yeah
Call up Hype Williams for the hype, please (It’s lit)
They gon’ wipe you, before you wipe me
On boxes of checks, not my Nikes (Ooh, yeah)
Excuse me, si-si-si-si-si-si-si
Don’t be missin’, man, Mississippi, dip a sippy
Make him happy, make him copy
Make him get me Chippi Chippi (Yeah)
There’s a lot I’m goin to spend
Tell me when you need me to pull up
You goin’ to shootout while I spin
Trippin’ like I’m trigger happy
Salt fish, ackee, ackee, golf buggy
Kawasaki, catch a fish, Sushi, maki, livin’ life
London city, left the town (Ah), Thug and Travis be that fam
Yeah, you know that (Slatt)
And when they free us out, it’s gonna be film, a Kodak (Yeah)
Shoot me pourin’ right above the rim like Pollack
I’ve been rippin’ and runnin’, not slippin’ or slidin’, athletic tendencies
I’ve been up since, cheffin’ it, whippin’ it to the base rock, I provide the remedy (Let’s go)
When we open gates up at Utopia (It’s lit)
It’s like Zootopia, you see the crosses over ya (Yeah)
That’s how you know it’s us
At 4 A.M. I’m phonin’ ya’, not for no shoulder rub
Them JACKBOYS open cleaners up, they way they fold and tuck
Yup, in my white tee (Yeah), yeah
Call up Hype Williams for the hype, please
Yeah, they gon’ wipe you, before you wipe me
Yeah on boxes of checks, not my
Checks, not my
I-I be where the fuck the light be
Bangers in the system, it’s bangers in the system
It’s ancient Anunnaki
Bangers in the system, it’s that, bangers in the system, it’s that
M.I.A.