[Hook 1]

Funky Feet
Funky Feet
Pull up with that stupid beat
Orange Camaro trick or treat

Stupid geeked
It's super street
It's a super sport nigga
Trick or treat

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]

I flee the broads
Stars and cars
Look like they just broke in the mall
Homegirl seen my automal
And said let's go and have a ball
Hold applause
Change your drawers
Big Gucci not Santa Clause
Youngins might just break the law
Whole squad be like "Damn The Law"
If what you seen ain't what you saw
Scary movie saw ii
East Atlanta
West Savannah
Alabama riding with me
Glock 9 on me
Hot rod lonely
Gucci riding double-wide
Tractor trailers ponies
What you mean?
Bag of beans
Same boy from the magazines
Two Ak's
Three magazines
Make a stupid horror scene
Orange Ferrari
Purple trees
Whipping like on gold d's
Pimping like im gold d
Listening to the oldies

[Hook 2]

Funky feet
Funky feet
Pull up with that stupid beat
Orange camaro trick or treat
Stupid geeked
And super street
It's a super sport nigga
Trick or treat
Look at me
Nigga look at me
Boy don't race my new ferrari
Pull up and say trick or treat
And every week
I cop another fleet
Or pretty cars nigga
Trick or treat

[Verse 2: Slim Dunkin]

Orange whip
Orange feet
Riding down orange street
Forgot to bring my orange tee
Turn wifey to a freak
Snatch somebody's orange whip
(why)
I gotta eat nigga
You looking sweet nigga
Trick or treat nigga
Trunk on thunder
Candy paint mumble
"why ya tint so dark"
Bitch im riding under
This bricksquad
Nigga what it do
You ain't brick squad
Pussy nigga who is you?
(they're nobodies)
Money over everything
Even you
If the general calls
Then you better shoot
Pop pop pop pop pop
You know the dunk
Wooh da Kid and Gucc troop
Gone pop the trunk

[Hook 2]

[Verse 3: Wooh Da Kid]

New chain
Come take a flick
You ain't taking shit
But you can take a clip
Its a nightmare when I pop up
Got the top cut
With your lady chick
We stupid geeked
Im hella high
Her mouth wet
But mine's stupid dry
Im moving slow like a zombie
While she's wopping me
And she's bopping me
Got black ice
Call me black ice
Real heavy around my neck
I just blacked out
Caught me blacked out
Looked and shot at a nigga that flex
Now im bussin at him
Im gunning at him
He's running real quick
With those funky feet
He a dead man ima toe-tag him
Ima black-bag him in white sheets
Ima flatline him
Its over with
He ain't coming back
No heartbeat
(Adios!)
Bricksquad's some rude boys
Dont play around
Don't fuck with them
Ill pull up on your spot
'less them shots off
You stuck with them
Im a g-a-n-g-s-t-a

Chorus 2

[Verse 4: Waka Flocka Flame]

Always nice kills
Call me waka flocka
Monique show got the old ladies wanna fuck me
Gone kill the boy like chuckie
Came up in the money
And they say im lucky
(flocka!)
Stomach little husky
That's a get-money-gut
All my hoes got waka flocka on they butt
I dont need a school girl
Nigga damn that slut
Ten pack a pills
Im gonna roll that blunt
Fuck Police!
Fuck Police!
No License On Me!
Hit The Club Vip!
No Id 'Cause I Got Funky Feet!
Ten left
Twenty right
Dead Guys On Me!
Im On E!
Its Ov!
I Think Im 'Bout To Own These!
Fly Girls Wanna Swat Me!
Cuz im getting out of hand
Like I lost my arm
Off the chain
Like I lost my charm
Them mulatto ticket girls
Love my charm
Balling like pierce
Shitting on my peers
When the grand in the airs
They love my sound
I think im james brown
I got funky feet
Say flock can't rap
I don't motherfucking care