Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

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

Where if you wearin' a three-piece suit, you gotta gang bang
I walked in a rest', to order
And people starin' like I had on my pants
Grabbin' they purse, checkin' they in the back

And thinkin' I'ma rob em, 'cause I'm in all
Yo, my are cuffed with a crease down the middle
skin around my waist, so my pants hang a little
But I deal the package of crack

So what's the for the dirty looks?
Yo, check my name in books
Seem every time I slap on my Starter cap
And step for a breath of 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 dumb
'Cause when I tell em I stay, it doesn't get better

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

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

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

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

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

So what you're 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 tight
I get a chance with the girls who wouldn't give me a

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

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

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

take a trip to the club scene
(Somebody tell me what's on)
You gotta wear a silk shirt just to dance to a song
Bouncers makin' enemies for wage
But they're the first ones to run when the 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 17.50 to hear 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 on my back for the fact that I rap
And they heard I was Compton, so they ran they pennies back)

Scared of me for what, no, I don't tux
And if I got a Grammy, man, I'd bail in some Chuck
to show the whole world it's alright to be yourself
Should I change the way I dress, so I can like the rest?

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

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