Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

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

Where if you ain't a three-piece suit, you gotta gang bang
I walked in a rest', to order
And people starin' like I had manure on my
Grabbin' purse, checkin' they wallets in the back

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

So the reason for the dirty looks?
Yo, check my name in your
like every time I slap on my Starter cap
And for a breath of fresh air
I end up up a questionnaire

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

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

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

(That's why they dress just 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 I'm gettin' tired of hearin' the same old thing
come the rickety security, sweatin me for my earring

I don't carry a gun, 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 Macy's or
So it's off to the swap meet for a fresh pair of

So what tellin' me, is now I'm a crook
Who the book on how a kid in my position's supposed to look?
Get me a fade and a pair of pants
I get a chance with the girls who give me a glance

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

Don't go here, don't go there, comin' up missin'
Got a pocket full of money, and I'm still getttin'
'Cause a scam or a phase of my life that I'm goin' through
If you dress like me, you run with a crew

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

Let's a trip to the club scene
(Somebody tell me what's on)
You gotta wear a silk shirt to dance to a funky song
Bouncers enemies for minimum wage
But they're the first to run when the club gets sprayed

Don't wanna let me in, because I'm wearin' my
And if you're sportin' gold, then you be a dope dealer
(I paid 17.50 to hear a funky rhyme
And they're at the do' like I just entered a fashion 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 back for the that I rap
And heard I was from 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 world it's alright to be yourself
Should I change the way I dress, so I can look like the

red, black and green, but they don't know what it means
Put on a African medallion, now they're down 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 in my stroll
So they ban my
(For what?)
they didn't like my dress code