Music Video

Travis Scott - MELTDOWN (Official Audio) ft. Drake
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Travis Scott
Travis Scott
Vocals
Drake
Drake
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jacques Bermon Webster II
Jacques Bermon Webster II
Songwriter
Aubrey Drake Graham
Aubrey Drake Graham
Songwriter
Matthew Jehu Samuels
Matthew Jehu Samuels
Songwriter
Anderson Hernandez
Anderson Hernandez
Songwriter
B. Saint Fort
B. Saint Fort
Songwriter
Brytavious Chambers
Brytavious Chambers
Songwriter
Scotty Coleman
Scotty Coleman
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Boi-1da
Boi-1da
Producer
Vinylz
Vinylz
Producer
BNYX
BNYX
Producer
Tay Keith
Tay Keith
Producer
Skeleton Cartier
Skeleton Cartier
Additional Producer
Derek Anderson
Derek Anderson
Recording Engineer
Tom Elmhirst
Tom Elmhirst
Mixing Engineer
MIKE DEAN
MIKE DEAN
Mastering Engineer
Matthew Jehu Samuels
Matthew Jehu Samuels
Producer
Scotty Coleman
Scotty Coleman
Producer

Lyrics

Yeah, tensions is definitely risin' T'd up right now T time, T time T time, T time, T time Teatime like I got a cup of this shit Tee time like golf at a quarter to six I love to fuck on a regular bitch Famous hoes lame, but they stay on my dick Heard your new joint, it's embarrassin', shit You talk to the cops on some therapist shit You act like you love this American shit But, really, the truth is you scared of the six Yeah, you scared of the six, yeah, you scared of the six Your bodyguard put in some work on a fluke Now you wanna go and inherit that shit Don't talk to the boy 'bout comparisons, shit Or come to the boy on some arrogant shit The weapons we got are some terrorist shit Like TV producers we, grr, we airin' this shit She askin' for bread for her parents and shit I told her, "I don't got no cash" and she said she could wait on a rack, on some Arabic shit I pull out a million and stare at the shit My dick just got hard 'cause a wire just hit My schedule is out, come spin us, for real Man, fuck all that spinnin' the narrative shit I melt down the chains that I bought from yo' boss Give a fuck about all of that heritage shit Since V not around, the members done hung up the Louis, they not even wearin' that shit Don't come to the boy 'bout repairin' some shit Don't come to the boy 'bout sparin' some shit You lucky that Vogue was suin' 'cause I woulda been with the Wassas in Paris and shit Is you fuckin' crazy? Uh, is you fuckin' crazy? (Ah) And they scared of the seven (seven) After one-three, then we turn up 11 (yeah) Keep this shit open like 7-Eleven (it's lit) Me at the house, I got seven in heaven They think I'm satanic, I keep me a reverend Shawty a therapist (yeah), poppin' her shit She inchin' my way then she started confessin' I know what's at stake, I'm screamin', "Free Jeffrey" Connect collect calls right off of the celly Gave her the blues, not talkin' 'bout belly Don't keep it sincere, I go Makaveli I got the juice, now it's heavy (juice) Always on t-time, been ready (T, ah), yeah Is you fuckin' crazy? Uh, is you f- (yeah, stoned, let's go) Wrappin' the cheese, wrap around me 'cause I've got property (wrap, cheese, wrap) Chocolate AP and chocolate the Vs (Vs), got the Willy Wonka factory (Vs) Burn an athlete like it's calories (frrt), find another flame hot as me, bitch (ooh) Yeah, is you fuckin' crazy? (Nah) is you fuckin' crazy? (What?) Is you fuckin' crazy? (Nah, nah) is you fuckin' crazy? Yeah Is you fuckin' crazy, or what? Is you fuckin', is you fuckin' Is you fuckin' crazy? How many Texas boys done ran it up? A couple, maybe (couple, maybe) Swangin' in the pickup truck, baby, fuck Mercedes (fuck Mercedes) I'll fuck a nigga bitch, but she can't have the baby (have the baby) I'll shoot your ass in Walmart like I'm DaBaby (in Walmart) The boy goin' Lionel Messi, I go Tom Brady (woo) Used to wear the bust down back in my old days (wow) Now I let the chains hang, you gotta tuck yours, maybe (tuck it, tuck it) Niggas talkin' Scarface, I'm that in real life Is you fuckin' crazy, or what? Is you fuckin' crazy? (Fuckin' crazy) Man, the club ain't been the same since we lost Mercedes (straight up) Man, the clique ain't been the same since they lost the greatest (nah, nah, nah) We outside with the army, so you need the (uh-huh) Them boys rollin' all brown like they whippin' gravy Make a circus outside like it's Barnum's Bailey (it's lit) Blickey hangin' on my side, it's like it's really hangin' (blickey, blickey, blaow) She move her panties to the side, she want it raw when faded (huh, huh, huh, huh?) Is you fuckin' crazy? Is you fuckin' crazy? Uh Is you fuckin' crazy, or what? Is you fuckin' crazy? Yeah Is you fuckin' crazy, or what? Is you fuckin', is you fuckin' Is you fuckin' crazy?
Writer(s): Aubrey Drake Graham, Matthew Jehu Samuels, Anderson Hernandez, Jacques Webster, Brytavious Lakeith Chambers, Scott L Coleman, Benjamin Saint Fort Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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