Luyện nghe bài hát Trick or Treat

[** feat. Slim Dunkin, The Kid & Waka Flocka:]

[car peeling out] [car revs then out]
("Listen to the bitch!") It's Gucci
Funky feet (funky feet) feet
up with that stupid beat, orange Camaro trick or treat
Stupid geek (tweakin) it's street
It's a Super Sport nigga, trick or
Mane:]
I the broads, stars and cars look like they just broke in the mall
Home girl seen my auto mall and said let's go and have a
applause change your drawers, Big Gucci not Santa Clause
Young'uns just break the law, whole Squad be like "Damn the law"
If what you ain't what you saw, Scary Movie, Saw 3
East Atlanta, whassup Santa, ride with me
Glock on me, hot rod lonely
Gucci double wides, tractor-trailers, ponies
What'chu mean? Bag of beans, same boy the magazines
Two AK's three magazines, make a stupid scene
Orange Ferrari, purple trees, whippin like on D's
like I'm Goldie, listenin to the oldies
Gucci!

Funky feet (funky feet) funky
Pull up with stupid beat, orange Camaro trick or treat
Stupid geek... super street
a Super Sport nigga, trick or treat
Look at me, nigga at me
Pull up in my new Ferrari, up and say trick or treat
And after a week, I cop skreet
A pretty car, nigga, or treat
Da Kid:]
Okay our whip, our feet, down our street
But got the broma{?}er'y T, your wife into a freak
the mighty iron whip, I gotta eat nigga
You lookin sweet nigga {click clack} trick or nigga
Trunk on thunder, candy paint
Why your tint so dark? Bitch I'm under
This Brick Squad, nigga it do
Ye Brick Squad pussy nigga who is you?
over e'rythang, even you
If the General call you better shoot
BLAK BLAK BLAK BLAK, you know the dump
Wooh Da Kid and Guc' truth pop the trunk

[Slum
Louis Vuitton, come take a
You ain't shit, but you can take a click
a nightmare when I pop up
Got the top cut lady chick
We super geeked, I'm hella
Her mouth wet but stupid dry
I'm movin slow a zombie
while she woppin me, she me
Got black ice, call me Black Ice, heavy around my neck
I just blackout, call me Blackout, look and shot at a nigga that
Now I'm bustin at him, I'm at him
He runnin real with those funky feet
He dead man, I'm toe
I'm a bag him in white sheets
I'm a flatline him, it's over
And he comin back, no heartbeat (ADIOS!)
Squad some rude boys
Don't play around, don't fuck them
I pull up on your
Let some shots off, you stuck with
I'm a G-A, N-G, S-T, A

[Waka Flocka
All these {?} girls call me wantin to
And Monique {?} the old ladies wanna me
I poke you to death like
up in one year they say I'm lucky, FLOCKA!
Semi hussy {?} that's a get money getter
All my girls got Waka Flocka on {?}
Don't need a school girl, need a down-ass
Ten pack of bills I wanna roll and
police, fuck police, no license on me
In the club V.I.P. no ID cuz got funky
Ten left, twenty right, dead on me
I'm on E, Olde E, I think I'm 'bout to O.D.
Some fly girls wanna me
And it's gettin out of hand I lost my arm
Off the chain I lost my job
Hold my ticket, girls love my charm
Ballin like pimps, shit switch
{?} ill, they my sign
And I think I'm James Brown I got feet
Say Flock rap, I don't motherfuckin care
FLOCKA!