Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

You know what's me mad?
Day day I'm catchin' all of this slack
you gotta wear a suit, unless you wanna jacked
'Cause in the '90s, y'all, fools got a set of them thangs

Where if you ain't wearin' a three-piece suit, you gotta gang
I in a rest', 'bout to order
And starin' like I had manure on my pants
Grabbin' they purse, checkin' wallets in the back

And thinkin' I'ma rob em, 'cause I'm in all
Yo, my Corduroys are with a crease down the middle
Snake skin around my waist, so my hang a little
But I don't deal the package of

So the reason for the dirty looks?
Yo, check my name in your
Seem like every time I on my Starter cap
And for a breath of fresh air
I end up up a questionnaire

"What's your name?" "Where goin?"
"Yo, what are you from?"
tell me "Don't get smart" and so I play dumb
'Cause I tell em where I stay, it doesn't get better

in South Central, they assume you got a jail record
A stereotypical
That if you look like me, you gotta run a crew
'Cause when I step upon the scene everybody's gettin'

No matter the color
(What's up?)
I'm sweated for my dress code
(Wear a shirt and tie and run the creeps)

(That's why they just like suckers)
(Ha?)
(Suckers)
(What?)
(Suckers)

What is this, a I'm buggin' off the way that I'm livin'
Seems everywhere I I'm assumin' the position
At school I'm gettin' tired of hearin' the old thing
come the rickety security, sweatin me for my earring

I don't a gun, though they consider me a threat
I guess I got em scared by the way that I
Unlike you I afford to shop at Macy's or Penny's
So it's off to the swap for a fresh pair of Dickey's

So you're tellin' me, is now I'm a crook
Who wrote the on how a kid in my position's supposed to look?
Get me a fade and a pair of pants
I get a chance with the girls who wouldn't me a glance

A big funny lookin' hat just to my naps
A of patten leather shoes might keep me out of scraps
If I made that turn, it might me some trouble
But I gotta watch my back, on the alert for a

Don't go here, don't go there, brothers comin' up
Got a full of money, and I'm still getttin' dissed
it's a scam or a phase of my life that I'm goin' through
If you dress me, you gotta run with a crew

I'm like a time bomb, ready to explode
in my front yard
(What's up?)
I'm gettin' sweated for my code
(Alright, fellas, no shoes, no hats, no khakis, alright?)

Let's a trip to the club scene
(Somebody tell me what's on)
You gotta wear a silk just to dance to a funky song
Bouncers makin' for minimum wage
But they're the first ones to run the club gets sprayed

wanna let me in, because I'm wearin' my beeper
And if you're sportin' gold, then you be a dope dealer
(I paid 17.50 to hear a rhyme flow
And they're sweatin' at the do' I just entered a fashion show)

Yo, they put a curfew on Westwood, to keep me in my
My hat's to the back, so I be up to no good
(I got a jacket on my back for the fact I rap
And heard I was from Compton, so they ran they pennies back)

Scared of me for what, no, I don't tux
And if I got a Grammy, man, I'd bail in some Chuck
to show the whole world it's alright to be yourself
Should I change the way I dress, so I can look the rest?

Wearin' red, black and green, but don't know what it means
Put on a African medallion, now down with the team
Penetratin' for a click, first they wouldn't, now they
But they gettin' rich
(Ain't a bitch?)

Go strike a GQ pose, I got in my stroll
So ban my video
(For what?)
'Cause they like my dress code