Luyện nghe bài hát Trick or Treat

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

[car out] [car revs then peels out]
("Listen to the track bitch!") Gucci
feet (funky feet) funky feet
Pull up with that beat, orange Camaro trick or treat
Stupid geek (tweakin) it's super
It's a Sport nigga, trick or treat
Mane:]
I flee the broads, stars and cars like they just broke in the mall
Home girl seen my auto mall and said let's go and have a
Hold applause change your drawers, Big Gucci not Santa
Young'uns might just break the law, whole be like "Damn the law"
If what you seen ain't you saw, Scary Movie, Saw 3
East Atlanta, whassup Santa, Alabama ride 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
Pimpin like I'm Goldie, to the oldies
Gucci!

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

[Slum
Louis Vuitton, come take a
You ain't takin shit, but you can take a
It's a nightmare I pop up
Got the top cut wit'cho lady
We geeked, I'm hella high
Her mouth wet but stupid dry
I'm movin slow a zombie
she woppin me, she boppin me
Got black ice, call me Black Ice, really heavy my neck
I just blackout, call me Blackout, look and at a nigga that flex
Now I'm at him, I'm gunnin at him
He runnin real quick with those feet
He man, I'm toe taggin
I'm a black bag him in sheets
I'm a him, it's over with
And he comin back, no heartbeat (ADIOS!)
Brick some rude boys
Don't play around, don't fuck with
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 {?} girls call me wantin to fuck
And Monique {?} the old ladies wanna me
I poke you to death Chucky
Came up in one they say I'm lucky, FLOCKA!
Semi little {?} that's a get money getter
All my girls got Flocka on they {?}
Don't need a school girl, a down-ass slut
Ten pack of I wanna roll and bite
police, fuck police, no license on me
In the V.I.P. no ID cuz got funky feet
Ten left, right, dead guys on me
I'm on E, Olde E, I think I'm 'bout to O.D.
Some fly girls wanna me
And gettin out of hand like I lost my arm
Off the like I lost my job
Hold my lotto ticket, love my charm
Ballin like pimps, 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!