Luyện nghe bài hát Dress Code

You know what's makin' me
Day after day I'm catchin' all of slack
Seems you gotta wear a suit, unless you 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 gang
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, 'cause I'm in all
Yo, my Corduroys are with a crease down the middle
Snake skin around my waist, so my pants a little
But I deal the package of crack

So what's the for the dirty looks?
Yo, check my name in books
Seem like every time I slap on my cap
And step for a breath of air
I end up up a questionnaire

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

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

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

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

is this, a prison? I'm buggin' off the way that I'm livin'
Seems everywhere I turn I'm assumin' the
At school I'm gettin' tired of hearin' the 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 that I
Unlike you I couldn't afford to shop at 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 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 with the girls who wouldn't give me a glance

A big funny hat just to cover my naps
A pair of leather shoes might 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 comin' up
Got a full of money, and I'm still getttin' 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, to explode
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 a trip to the club scene
(Somebody tell me goin' on)
You gotta wear a silk shirt just to to a funky song
Bouncers makin' enemies for minimum
But they're the first ones to run the club gets sprayed

Don't wanna let me in, because I'm wearin' my
And if sportin' gold, then 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 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 wear tux
And if I ever got a Grammy, man, I'd bail in some
Tailors to show the whole world it's alright to be
I change the way I dress, so I can look like the rest?

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

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