Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Travis Scott
Vocals
T.I.
Vocals
2 Chainz
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jacques Bermon Webster II
Songwriter
Tauheed Epps
Songwriter
Anthony Kilhoffer
Songwriter
MIKE DEAN
Songwriter
Julian Gramma
Songwriter
Clifford Harris, Jr.
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Travis Scott
Producer
Anthony Kilhoffer
Mixing Engineer
Jaime “Jimmy Cash” Lepe
Recording Engineer
Finis White
Recording Engineer
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
J Gramm
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Pull out the zip
Pull out the roll (Ride out)
We so high, upper echelon (Straight up)
We so fuckin' high, upper echelon (Damn!)
(La flame, straight up)
Pull out the zip
Pull out the roll (Ride out)
We so high, upper echelon (Straight up)
We so fuckin' high, upper echelon (Straight up) (Damn!)
[Verse 2]
Dozin' off them xannies, just popped the bandit
Wave rock like Atlantic, froze like a Atlantic
Party at the Sphinx, damn, that's so outlandish (Straight up)
She gon' make it clap, clap
Throw them bands up
Walkin' through the Waldorf, they know my name, yeah (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 Naw! (Straight up)
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
We poppin' champagne, damn you apple cider
[Verse 3]
Pull out the zip
Pull out the roll (Ride out)
We so high, upper echelon (Straight up)
We so fuckin' high, upper echelon (Damn!)
[Verse 4]
Aight Travis, let's get it
Hustle game, ****
[Verse 5]
These **** a mess, I swear you bet show some respect
Or else I guarantee you get wet
You fuckin' with us, I suggest you invest in a vest
A chopper no less than a tech
These **** want trouble, at that I'm the best
They just wanna talk, I ain't finna do that
I just might pull up wherever you at
Put my foot in your ass, and a hole in your hat
[Verse 6]
Okay, hold up, let me freeze up
These **** must of caught amnesia
My face card in these streets cuz
A-1 credit, no Visa
Excuse me shotta don't get me started
Your shit sick, my shit retarded
Motherfucker can't see the trees from the forest
Get wrong, get shot, then leave 'em in the forest
Going way to the end of the Earth
Just to get my check, interfere, get hurt
Hey, first thing first, this is what I do, okay
I'm the king, motherfucker, who the hell are you?
Check suckas off top, I bet I do
Hustle gang in this bitch, you better lay down fool
We crème de la crème, fuck them, fuck ****
Top shelf, upper echelon, can't fuck with us
[Verse 7]
Pull out the zip
Pull out the roll (Ride out)
We so high, upper echelon (Straight up)
We so fuckin' high, upper echelon (Damn!)
[Verse 8]
2 Chainz!
Pull up in a Rarri, my hoe beside me
It's a two seater, your bitch can't ride, hoe, I'm sorry (Damn!)
Let's get it jumpin', call it center court
On the loud, you can smell that scent on me in court
Just beat the case, call it Larry Holmes (Larry Holmes)
On the plane with your bitch and a carry on
I do it for my city, then I fly away (Fly away)
I can see tomorrow, I'm so high today
I told 'em let's pray, I keep killin' verses
Your bitch with me, she wearin' killer purses
[Verse 9]
Pull out that zip
Mac 11!
Pastor Reverend (Oh Lord)
Versace heaven
[Verse 10]
Pull out the zip
Pull out the roll (Ride out)
We so high, upper echelon
That dough, straight up
We so fuckin' high, upper echelon
Damn
Straight up
Written by: Anthony Kilhoffer, Clifford Harris p/k/a T.I., J Gramm Beats, Jacques Bermon Webster II, Julian Gramma, MIKE DEAN, Tauheed Epps