Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

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

Where if you ain't wearin' a three-piece suit, you gotta bang
I walked in a rest', 'bout to
And people starin' I had manure on my pants
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 crease the middle
Snake skin around my waist, so my hang a little
But I don't the package of crack

So what's the reason for the looks?
Yo, check my in your books
Seem like every 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 I stay, it doesn't get better

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

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

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

What is this, a I'm buggin' off the way that I'm livin'
Seems I turn I'm assumin' the position
At school I'm gettin' of hearin' the same old thing
come the rickety 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 that I
Unlike you I couldn't to shop at Macy's or Penny's
So it's off to the swap meet for a fresh pair of

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

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 save me some trouble
But I gotta 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 getttin'
'Cause it's a scam or a phase of my life that I'm through
If you dress like me, you gotta run with a

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

Let's take a to the club scene
(Somebody tell me goin' on)
You gotta wear a shirt just to dance to a funky song
Bouncers makin' enemies for minimum
But they're the ones to run when the club gets sprayed

Don't wanna let me in, I'm wearin' my beeper
And if you're sportin' gold, then you be a dope dealer
(I paid 17.50 to 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 keep me in my
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 from Compton, so they ran they back)

of me for what, no, I don't wear 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 the way I dress, so I can look like 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 they ain't gettin'
(Ain't a bitch?)

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