Luyện nghe bài hát Trick or Treat

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

[car peeling out] [car then peels out]
("Listen to the track bitch!") Gucci
Funky (funky feet) funky feet
Pull up that stupid beat, orange Camaro trick or treat
Stupid geek (tweakin) it's super
It's a Super nigga, trick or treat
Mane:]
I flee the broads, stars and cars look like just broke in the mall
Home girl seen my mall and said let's go and have a ball
Hold applause change your drawers, Big not Santa Clause
Young'uns might just 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, Alabama ride me
nine on me, hot rod lonely
Gucci ridin wides, tractor-trailers, ponies
What'chu mean? Bag of beans, same boy the magazines
Two AK's three magazines, make a stupid horror
Orange Ferrari, purple trees, whippin on gold D's
Pimpin I'm Goldie, listenin to the oldies
Gucci!

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

[Slum
Louis Vuitton, come take a
You ain't takin shit, but you can take a
It's a when I pop up
Got the top cut wit'cho lady
We super geeked, I'm hella
Her wet but mine stupid dry
I'm movin like a zombie
she woppin me, she boppin me
Got black ice, call me Black Ice, heavy around my neck
I just blackout, call me Blackout, and shot at a nigga that flex
Now I'm bustin at him, I'm at him
He real quick with those funky feet
He man, I'm toe taggin
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 with them
I up on your block
Let some shots off, you stuck them
I'm a G-A, N-G, S-T, A

[Waka Flocka
All these {?} girls call me to fuck
And {?} the old ladies wanna fuck 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 {?}
need a school girl, need a down-ass slut
Ten pack of bills I wanna and bite
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, it's Olde E, I I'm 'bout to O.D.
fly girls wanna swat me
And gettin out of hand like I lost my arm
Off the chain like I my job
my lotto ticket, girls love my charm
Ballin pimps, shit doesn't switch
{?} ill, they love my
And I think I'm James Brown I got feet
Say Flock can't rap, I don't care
FLOCKA!