Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

You know what's makin' me
Day day I'm catchin' all of this slack
Seems you gotta wear a suit, you wanna jacked
'Cause in the '90s, y'all, these got a set of them 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 on my pants
Grabbin' purse, checkin' they wallets in the back

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

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

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

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

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

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

is this, a prison? I'm buggin' 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 the rickety security, sweatin me for my earring

I don't carry a gun, they consider me a threat
I guess I got em 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 swap for a fresh pair of Dickey's

So what you're tellin' me, is now I'm a
Who wrote the on how a kid in my position's supposed to look?
Get me a fade and a of tight pants
I get a chance the girls who wouldn't give me a glance

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

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

I'm tickin' like a time bomb, ready to
Even in my yard
(What's up?)
I'm gettin' sweated for my dress
(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' enemies for wage
But they're the first ones to run the club gets sprayed

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

Yo, they put a curfew on Westwood, to me in my neighborhood
My to the back, so I must be up to no good
(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 ever got a Grammy, man, I'd 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?

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

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