Ayy, it′s DubDaddy on the track
Not a rapper, but I thought I'd have a crack
Another song, another bar, another stackWe keep coming back, now we picking up a slack
Get laid, get paid, get a raid
Trigger-Treat sweet, but can′t beat the blade
It's Halloween bitch, it's time to get made
Better lock up, or you′re gonna get slayed
Ayy, The Boys are coming in
Got lit last night, I′m the Cherry Gin
Smoking gas, eating ass, not commiting sin
We're goin′ large like Amy Schumer's second chin
Hey everybody, my name is JoshDub
When I don′t do crime, I talk shit at the club
I like Corona, no lime
And having a tug
I got my bread no crust, 'cause you know I′m a thug
It's Halloween
My girl cooking, clean
Doing flips in the sheets, call that Trick-n-Treat
In the back of a Bentley, and we got on rings
Riding in the streets, shouting scary things (oo! Ahh!)
The Boys in town and we hunting clowns
Couple kings with a couple crowns (bank mate)
Scaring kids while we're blowing clouds
It′s Mully in the back, and your bitch is getting plowed
It′s spooky and cold on this dreadful night
But we got some beauties in our sight
We love the shadows
And fear of the light
But we'll steal your girl with one quick bite
On Halloween you can hear many sounds
Some screaming, some crying in the background
But if I see some kind of creepy clown
Oh, you better believe it′s going down!
All the witches the be on me, with glee
When I walk up in a room it's a party
Got no reflection but there′s one thing you can see
Our competition running, scared as they should be
Never give our little secrets away (hush-hush-hush)
Wiping away all the haters like a (brush-brush-brush)
We be stealing all your candy in a (rush-rush-rush)
Dropping songs and videos and always (crush-crush-crush)
Got these demons in my head, overwhelming me with fear, and dread (dread, dread, dread)
Screaming in my bed keep me grinding 'til I′m dead (dead, dead, dead)
Spirits in my head come and visit me from time to time (time-to-time, time)
People say I'm sick but I swear to God I'm fine (I′m fine, I′m fine!)
Trick-or-Treat!
Excuse me, what the fuck is this?
Candy corn, Bit-O-Honey, one Hershey Kiss?
¿Que no sabes que me dicen "El Mexorsist"?
If you don't know who I am, then I′ll tell you what it is
Got a blanket to protect me, and a wooden cross
I sprinkle Holy Water to show demons who's boss
I make videos to scare all the kiddos
And I′ll exercise your tía with a bag of Hot Cheetos
I shook Freddy Krueger's hand
GRAW harder than The Grudge
Make Pennywise fuck two and give Huggy-Wuggy a hug
I got good at hide-and-seek, you can always ask a fed
I put poison in your GOAT now the Chupacabra′s dead!
I live in the States, born in Monterrey
Got a gringa by my side, she can cook some frijoles
I cross the border and la migra said
"Hey, come on down, but you just can't stay!"
Running and hiding, and working and fighting
You don't got the papers to even be trying
To say it was easy, then I would be lying
Soy un imigrante con gran corazón
En vez de rocogiendo la basura de tu escaloña
Ahora ocupo la pantalla de tu habitación
Hasta parece que yo tomo gasolina
Te enciendo con mis rapes, es pura adrenalina
Mi tierra, la extraño, nunca olvidare mi casa
¡Un saludo para todos mis Latinos y mi raza!
Now give me the Reese′s Cup bitch!
Ya-da, ya-da, ya-da, ya-da
Something about a square
You, me, and Juice Box ′bout to go blare
Like the witch, that's a sitch
Halloween night, ′bout to wake up in a ditch
And I'm stacking up dinero
Got this young man feeling like George Romero
Picked up on clean know we saw it in the taro′s
Dig a little deeper, boy, you almost at the mid-row
I don't really know
I don′t really know
Ya-da, ya-da
Ya-da, ya-da
My goldfish took a little holiday
Left me feeling sour like that Minute Maid
One day he said he wanna go to Outer Space
So I made a little rocket out of Gatorade bottles
Got your grandma at the war
And she gonna catch the fade
I don't really give a fuck
I'm just tryna get paid
I will smoke your grandad too
If he even looks my way
I will kick your little sister in her motherfuckin′ face
That′s that shit you learn in Florida when you smoking K-2
Hold that shit up in my chest, boy, I'm ′bout to turn blue
I might mosy down the target man, and buy me that canoe
I can't, haha, uh
