Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

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

if you ain't 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' they purse, they wallets in the back

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

So what's the reason for the looks?
Yo, check my name in books
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 play
when I tell em where I stay, it doesn't get better

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

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

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

What is this, a I'm buggin' off the way that 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 a gun, though they consider me a threat
I I got em scared by the way that I dress
Unlike you I couldn't afford to 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 tight
I get a chance with the who wouldn't give me a glance

A big funny lookin' hat to cover my naps
A pair of patten leather shoes might me out of scraps
If I made that turn, it might me some 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 getttin' dissed
'Cause it's a or a phase of my life that I'm goin' through
If you dress like me, you gotta run a crew

I'm tickin' like a time bomb, to explode
Even in my yard
(What's up?)
I'm sweated 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 a silk shirt just to dance to a funky song
Bouncers makin' enemies for wage
But they're the first ones to run the club gets sprayed

Don't let me in, because I'm wearin' my beeper
And if you're sportin' gold, you gotta be a dope dealer
(I paid 17.50 to hear a rhyme flow
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 be up to no good
(I got a jacket on my back for the fact I rap
And they heard I was Compton, so they ran they pennies back)

of me for what, no, I don't wear tux
And if I ever got a Grammy, man, I'd bail in Chuck
Tailors to show the whole world it's 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 down with the team
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 they ban my
(For what?)
'Cause didn't like my dress code