Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

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

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

And thinkin' rob em, 'cause I'm in all black
Yo, my Corduroys are cuffed with a crease down the
Snake skin around my waist, so my hang a little
But I deal the package of crack

So what's the for the dirty looks?
Yo, check my in your books
Seem like every time I slap on my cap
And for a breath of fresh air
I end up up a questionnaire

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

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

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 dress just like suckers)
(Ha?)
(Suckers)
(What?)
(Suckers)

is this, a prison? 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 the same old thing
Here come the rickety security, sweatin me for my

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 couldn't afford to shop at Macy's or
So it's off to the swap for a fresh pair of Dickey's

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

A big lookin' hat just to cover 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 watch my back, on the alert for a squabble

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Go strike a GQ pose, I got in my stroll
So ban my video
(For what?)
'Cause they didn't like my dress