Franchise
[Intro: Future]
Haha, yeah
[Verse 1: Future & Travis Scott]
I made you get that Richard Mille and bust it down, b**ch
I made you get that Patek, bust it, bust it down, b**ch
I came from out the jungle with this sh*t written on my arm (No cap), yeah (Yeah)
I’m a franchise nigga, yeah (You like a hundred mil’ up)
Yeah, ten Cuban links, I got game (Two hundred million)
Yeah, bought my first Rolex servin’ ‘caine
Yeah, told ya main thing, she the least, she can pour my cup
I put pink diamonds in your teeth, yup (Pluto)
Fully loaded, tote that magazine, yup (Super)
b**ch, I’m rollin’ and I’m on codeine, yeah (b**ch, I might)
Pussy good and deep, she belong to the streets, yeah
Swag in Tokyo and the plug Japanеse, yeah
I been gettin’ my chеck before I knew what was Nikes (Knew what was)
Mixed breed bad b**ch, bite me like I’m Tyson
P-J X-rated, know I make it thunder and lightnin’ (Yeah)
Take that nigga bean and bring my hundred thousand ones (Ayy)
One fifty for the walk through, I’m totin’ my gun (Pew)
Me and slatt, slatt, that super slime and sh*t (Slime, ayy)
Yeah, swappin’ hoes out, we just slime this b**ch up (Swappin’, yeah, alright)
Watch so froze, know what time is now
Yeah, sak pasé, we shootin’ confident (Nap boule)
Buy a b**ch a Birkie, that’s a compliment, yeah (Straight up)
Ballin’ like the Lakers, want a championship, yeah (Ooh, ooh)
Pluto, Freeband Gang (It’s lit)
[Chorus: Travis Scott & Young Thug]
Yup, in my white tee (Yeah)
Yeah, call up Hype Williams for the hype, please (It’s lit)
Uh, they gon’ wipe you before you wipe me (Phew)
On boxes of checks, not my Nikes (Ooh, yeah)
[Verse 2: Travis Scott & M.I.A.]
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 her hyphy (Ah, ooh)
Incredible, icky-icky, general
I just start the label just to sign me
Uh, me and CHASE connected like we Siamese (Woo, woo, woo, ooh, ooh)
Uh, we’ve been on the run, feel like a crime spree, talk to me nicely (Yeah)
(I seen his face, seen it) Yup, on his white tee, uh (Let’s go)
[Verse 3: Young Thug]
Yeah, yup, 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 that, keep that ho (Uh-uh)
R.I.P. Pop, keep the smoke (Ayy, slatt)
Talk to me nicely (Talk to me nicely)
Keep her on a 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, b**ch)
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, yee (Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, hee)
Yellowbone too feisty, yee (Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, hee)
Clean him up, no napkin, yee (Doo)
[Chorus: Travis Scott & Young Thug]
Yup, in my white tee (Yeah)
Yeah, call up Hype Williams for the hype, please (It’s lit)
Uh, they gon’ wipe you before you wipe me (Phew)
On boxes of checks, not my Nikes (Ooh, yeah)
[Outro: Travis Scott & M.I.A.]
‘Scuse me
Backin’ out of the cave, we built this sh*t off of pain
In the cup it built, I’m double-cuppin’ champagne
Come through in quintuplets, automatics, same name
Tryna show all my young niggas how to start up, believe
Coming through with no top, she showin’ in Mickey D
After twelve A.M., come through with special
Elevate, up the top, this sh*t got levels
