Travis Scott - Upper Echelon Lyrics

Travis Scott Lyrics

Upper Echelon Lyrics
[Chorus 2X: Travi$ Scott]
Pull out the zip (zip), pull out the roll (roll up)
We so high, upper echelon (straight up)
We so f*ckin' high, upper echelon (DAMN)

[Travi$ Scott]
Dozin' off them Xannies, just popped a bandie
Wave rock like Atlantic, froze like Atlantic
Party at the Sphinx, damn that's so outlandish (straight up)
She gon' make it clap, clap, throw them bands (dope)
Walkin' through the Waldorf they know my name here (La Flame)
Dropped out, got signed, got mom house all in the same year (straight up)
Don't you come around me, ain't got the time, b
Watch me do the Randy, touchdown (bricks)
Knew how much I get, think La Flame the golden child (La Flame)
Ridin' right behind her, pull up beside her (SKRRT)
We poppin' champagne, damn you apple cider

[Chorus 1X]

Aight Travis, let get it - HUSTLE GANG, NIGGA!
You niggas a mess, I swear you best show some respect or else I guarantee you'll get wet (sho'nuff?)
You f*ckin' with us, I suggest you invest in a vest (ay) - a choppa no less than a tech
You niggas want trouble in that I'm the best, they just wanna talk, I ain't finna do that (what?)
I just might pull up wherever you at, put my foot in your ass and a hole in your hat (BLAAAT!)
Ok, hol' up, let me freezer (okay), these niggas must have caught amnesia (say what?)
My face caught in these streets cuh (ay), all credit, no Visa (leh'go)
Excuse me shawty don't get me started (what), if yo shit sick, my shit retarded (okay)
Motherf*cker can't see the tree but before I get wrong get shot then leave 'em in the forest
Boom, wait til the end of the Earth, just to get my check, interfere, get hurt
Hey, first thing first, this what I do: I'm a king motherf*cker who the hell are you?
Check suckas off top, I bet I do, Hustle Gang in it bitch, you better lay down fool
We creme de la creme f*ck them f*ck niggas, top shelf upper echelon can't f*ck with us (ay)

[Chorus 1X]

[2 Chainz]
Uh, pull up in the rari, my ho beside me (ERRRT)
It's a two seater, your bitch can't ride, ho I'm sorry (damn)
Let's get it jumpin', call it center court (ugh)
On the loud, you can smell that scent on me in court (tell 'em)
Just beat the case, call it Larry Holmes
On the plane with your bitch and a carry on
I do it for my city, then I fly away
I can see tomorrow, I'm so high today
I told 'em let's pray, I keep killin' verses (bap-bap)
Yo bitch with me, she wearin' killer purses
Pull out that seven (yea), MAC eleven (bap)
Pastor, reverend (hol' up) - Versace heaven

[Chorus 1X]

[Travi$ Scott]
La Flame, straight up!

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