Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

You know what's me mad?
Day after day I'm catchin' all of this
Seems you gotta wear a suit, unless you 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 gang bang
I in a rest', 'bout to order
And starin' like I had manure on my pants
Grabbin' they purse, checkin' they wallets in the

And I'ma rob em, 'cause I'm in all black
Yo, my are cuffed with a crease down the middle
skin around my waist, so my pants hang a little
But I don't deal the package of

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

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

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

No matter the color
(What's up?)
I'm gettin' for my dress 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 tired of hearin' the same old thing
Here come the rickety security, sweatin me for my

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 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 wouldn't me a glance

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

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

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

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

Don't wanna let me in, because I'm my beeper
And if sportin' gold, then you gotta be a dope dealer
(I paid 17.50 to hear a 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 on my back for the fact that I rap
And they heard I was from Compton, so they ran pennies back)

Scared of me for what, no, I wear 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
Should I the way I dress, so I can look like the rest?

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

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