Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

You know makin' me mad?
Day after day I'm catchin' all of this
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 ain't wearin' a three-piece suit, you gotta bang
I walked in a rest', to order
And people starin' 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 are cuffed with a crease down the middle
Snake skin around my waist, so my pants hang a
But I don't the package of crack

So what's the reason for the dirty
Yo, check my name in your
Seem like every time I slap on my cap
And step for a of fresh air
I end up fillin' up a

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

Live in South Central, they you got a jail record
A stereotypical
if you look like me, you gotta run with a crew
'Cause when I step upon the 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 just like suckers)
(Ha?)
(Suckers)
(What?)
(Suckers)

What is this, a prison? I'm buggin' off the way I'm livin'
Seems everywhere I turn I'm the position
At school I'm gettin' tired of hearin' the same old
Here come the security, sweatin me for my earring

I don't carry a gun, they consider me a threat
I I got em scared by the way that I dress
you I couldn't 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 position's supposed to
Get me a fade and a pair of pants
I get a chance the girls who wouldn't give me a glance

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

Don't go here, 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 that I'm goin' through
If you dress like me, you gotta run with a

I'm tickin' like a 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 me what's goin' on)
You gotta wear a silk shirt just to dance to a funky
Bouncers enemies for minimum wage
But the first ones to run when the club gets sprayed

wanna 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 a funky rhyme flow
And they're sweatin' at the do' like I just entered a show)

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

Scared of me for what, no, I don't tux
And if I ever got a Grammy, man, I'd bail in some
Tailors to the whole world it's alright to be yourself
I change the way I dress, so I can look 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
Penetratin' for a click, they wouldn't, now they switched
But they ain't rich
(Ain't a bitch?)

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