Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

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

Where if you wearin' a three-piece suit, you gotta gang bang
I walked in a rest', 'bout to
And people starin' like I had manure on my
Grabbin' purse, checkin' they wallets 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 pants a little
But I don't the package of crack

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So what tellin' me, is now I'm a crook
Who wrote the book on how a kid in my supposed to look?
Get me a fade and a pair of tight
I get a chance with the girls who give 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 save me some
But I gotta watch my back, on the for a squabble

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

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

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

Don't let me in, because I'm wearin' my beeper
And if you're sportin' gold, then you gotta be a dealer
(I paid 17.50 to hear a funky rhyme
And sweatin' at the do' like I just entered a fashion show)

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

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

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

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