Luyện nghe bài hát Trick or Treat

[** feat. Slim Dunkin, Wooh The Kid & Waka

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

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

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

[Waka Flame]
All these {?} girls me wantin to fuck
And Monique {?} the old wanna fuck me
I poke you to death like
up in one year they say I'm lucky, FLOCKA!
Semi little hussy {?} that's a get money
All my got Waka Flocka on they {?}
Don't need a girl, need a down-ass slut
Ten pack of bills I roll and bite
police, fuck police, no license on me
In the club V.I.P. no ID cuz got feet
Ten left, twenty right, dead on me
I'm on E, it's E, I think 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
Hold my ticket, girls love my charm
Ballin like pimps, doesn't switch
{?} ill, they love my
And I think I'm Brown I got funky feet
Say Flock can't rap, I don't care
FLOCKA!