Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

You know what's makin' me
Day after day I'm catchin' all of slack
Seems you gotta 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, they wallets in the back

And I'ma 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 pants hang a
But I don't deal the of crack

So what's the reason for the 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 fillin' up a

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

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

No matter what the
(What's up?)
I'm gettin' sweated for my 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'
everywhere I turn I'm assumin' the position
At school I'm gettin' tired of hearin' the same old
Here come the rickety security, me for my earring

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don't wanna let me in, I'm wearin' my beeper
And if you're sportin' gold, then you be a dope dealer
(I paid 17.50 to hear a funky 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)

Scared of me for what, no, I wear tux
And if I ever got a Grammy, man, I'd bail in Chuck
Tailors to the whole world it's alright to be yourself
Should I change the way I dress, so I can look like the

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

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