Warm up:
Black man with a fresh cut
Pants sagging, see you done messed up
Dress code got the nigga coming out'cha
Ain't spoke one word, but they know all about'cha
Top down with my hat low
Riding round wit nowhere to go
Beat up, working on my latest flow
(Sirens), go ahead nigga take it slow
Verse One:
(Nah) Why do niggas get nervous, when them sirens surface?
Probably cause they'll stomp a nigga out on purpose
Homie must've fit a description
You know the one that fit the dark skin you in
Got any weapons? Where the weed nigga?
In other words, a reminder that we niggas
Check my record.. the shits clean
Grew up on the southside where they claim them streets mean
But every weapon drawn on me, been by those with badges
Imagine.. what that do to a teenage psyche
Or the niggas in my hood that look just like me
Just showing off my new pair of all blue Nikes
Now I'm gang affiliated, with straight A's?, unlikely
Nigga ain't even out of High School
And they taught me life don't play by my rules
Just sit back, shut the fuck up and be cool
And if you don't, well, peace dude
Orange suit, pink bottoms, that's the dress code
In that 6, ducee, in the middle drop that O
Private prisons shopping niggas on the low
Line'em up and knock'em over just like some dominos
Truth is that lil nigga had no where to go
Just headed down the road of the life he know
Hook:
Black man with a fresh cut
Pants sagging, see you done messed up
Dress code got the nigga coming out'cha
Ain't spoke one word, but they know all about'cha
This life got all kind of rules
Sometimes they let a nigga by if he kind of cool
Just smile and put on the best show
But.. be weary of ya dress code
Verse Two:
They only like to scratch the surface
You left ya block, now you got'em all nervous
On elevators, they clutch they purses
We started snatching'em, shit got worse then
The lil homie, just dropped out of school
Got a bitch pregnant, started flashing his tool
Slung a lil dope and I asked why dude?
He said... cuz that's what's nigga do
How can you excel, when ya only hope is jail?
When they treat you like a loser you can only expect to fail
Gotta read between the lines, when you living in the hell
If they hide it from ya eyes then learn to read braille
Hidden Colors, this life don't love us
Black woman's only hope show yo ass in them covers
King Magazine, I thought he had a dream
Woke up and saw Trayvon's murder scene
Shit, look what they doing to Obama
Brought'em into office just so he can drop bombs brah
Protect Monsanto, snatch some civil rights
He ain't in control yall, why can't you see the light?
Black man's plight, black man's struggle
Black men bred to fight, so black men hustle
Truth is we got no where to go
Just headed down the road of the life we know
Hook:
Black man with a fresh cut
Pants sagging, see you done messed up
Dress code got the nigga coming out'cha
Ain't spoke one word, but they know all about'cha
This life got all kind of rules
Sometimes they let a nigga by if he kind of cool
Just smile and put on the best show
But.. be weary of ya dress code
Verse Three: (Spoken Word)
Ladies and Gentleman,
Welcome to America's wasteland, your local neighborhood ghetto
Where the grind is so deep, we can't seem to let go
Surrounded by pimps, playas, hustlas and fiends
Where things are as they seem, a land with no dreams
No hope, no ambition, but niggas still got a make a living
Ain't no 9 to 5's so I guess its time to ride
Got kids we gotta provide for, keep ya eyes open for 5-0
Cuz they don't give a fuck, they toss the drugs in ya back seat to make that quota
And the ones outside of the ghetto hear about the drama but they don't wanna know though
So we find ourselves stuck in a cycle,
And when you try to rise above it all best friends become rivals..
Hook:
Black man with a fresh cut
Pants sagging, see you done messed up
Dress code got the nigga coming out'cha
Ain't spoke one word, but they know all about'cha
This life got all kind of rules
Sometimes they let a nigga by if he kind of cool
Just smile and put on the best show
But.. be weary of ya dress code
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