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Franchise Lyrics

by Travis Scott

Lyricist: Travis Scott, Kanye West, Big Sean, Metro Boomin

1 viewsPublished on Sep 24, 2026

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.​

Meaning of Franchise

“Franchise” by Travis Scott is a dizzying, hyperactive immersion into a lavish and chaotic world of excess, fueled by drug use, celebrity culture, and an unapologetic embrace of wealth. The song’s central theme revolves around establishing dominance – not through traditional power, but through sheer extravagance and the ability to command attention within a highly curated, often simulated reality. Scott meticulously constructs this “franchise,” a brand built on luxury goods like private flights to France, designer clothing (“white tee”), and an entourage of influential figures represented by names like Hype Williams and Chase. The repeated lyrical motifs – “wipe you,” “boxes of checks,” “not my Nikes” – emphasize the rejection of conventional success metrics and the prioritization of material possessions as a symbol of power. Beneath the surface, however, lurks an unsettling sense of paranoia and instability. References to “crime spree,” “talking nicely,” and the constant need for validation (“make him happy, make him copy”) reveal a fragile ego desperately trying to maintain control in a world spiraling out of his grasp. The fragmented verses, punctuated by repetitive ad-libs and nonsensical phrases like "Yellowbone too feisty," create an intentionally disorienting effect, mirroring the distorted perception often associated with drug use and the pursuit of fleeting pleasures. Ultimately, “Franchise” isn't simply a boast about wealth; it’s a portrait of a man desperately trying to build an empire – one fueled by indulgence and shrouded in a haze of delusion, leaving the listener questioning the true cost of this extravagant lifestyle.

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travis scottfranchisehypetrapmusic lyrics

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