Dress Code

[ VERSE 1: W.C. ] You know what's makin me mad? Day after day I'm catchin all of this slack Seems you gotta wear a suit, unlesss you wanna jacked Cause in the '90s, y'all, these fools got a set of them thangs Where if you ain't wearin a three-piece suit, you gotta gangbang I walked in a rest', bout to order, and People starin like a had manure on my pants Grabbin they purse, checkin they wallets in the back And thinkin I'mma rob em, cause I'm in all black Yo, my Curduroys are cuffed with a crease down the middle Snakeskin around my waist, so my pants hang a little But I don't deal the package of crack So what's the reason for the dirty looks? Yo, check my name in your books Seem like everytime I slap on my Starter cap And step for a breath of fresh air I end up fillin up a questionnaire 'What's your name?' 'Where you're goin?' 'Yo, what gang are you from?' They tell me, "Don't get smart", and so I play dumb Cause when I tell em where I stay, it doesn't get better Live in South Central, they assume you got a jail record A stereotypical attitude That if you look like me, you gotta run with a crew Cause when I step upon the scene everybody's gettin petrol No matter what the color (What's up?) I'm gettin sweated for my dress code (Wear a shirt and tie and run with the creeps) (That's why) (they dress just like) (suckers) (Ha?) (suckers) (What?) (suckers) [ VERSE 2 ] [ W.C. ] What is this, a prison? I'm buggin off the way that I'm livin Seems everywhere I turn I'm assumin the position At school I'm gettin tired of hearin the same old thing Here come the rickety security, sweatin me for my earring I don't carry a gun, though they consider me a threat I guess I got em scared by the way that I dress Unlike you I couldn't afford to shop at Macy's or Penny's So it's off to the swap meet for a fresh pair of Dickey's So what you're tellin me, is now I'm a crook Who wrote the book on how a kid in my position's supposed to look? [ Coolio ] Get me a fade and a pair of tight pants I get a chance with the girls who wouldn't give me a glance A big funny lookin hat just to cover my naps A pair of patten leather shoes might keep me out of scraps If I made that turn, it might save me some trouble But I gotta watch my back, on the alert for a squabble 'Don't go here, don't go there,' brothers comin up missin Got a pocket full of money, and I'm still getttin dissed Cause it's a scam or a phase of my life that I'm goin through If you dress like me, you gotta run with a crew I'm tickin like a timebomb, ready to explode Even in my frontyard (What's up) I'm gettin sweated for my dress code (Alright, fellas No tennis shoes, no hats, no khakis, alright?) [ VERSE 3: W.C. ] Let's take a trip to the club scene (somebody tell me what's goin on) You gotta wear a silk shirt just to dance to a funky song Bouncers makin enemies for minimum wage But they're the first ones to run when the club gets sprayed Don't wanna let me in, because I'm wearin my beeper And if you're sportin gold, then you gotta be a dope dealer (I paid 17.50 to hear a funky rhyme flow And they're sweatin at the do' like I just entered a fashion show) Yo, they put a curfew on Westwood, to keep me in my neighborhood My hat's to the back, so I must be up to no good (I got a jacket on my back for the fact that I rap And they heard I was from Compton, so they ran they pennies back) Scared of me for what, no, I don't wear tux And if I ever got a Grammy, man, I'd bail in some Chuck Tailors to show the whole world it's alright to be yourself Should I change the way I dress, so I can look like the rest? Wearin red, black and green, but they don't know what it means Put on a African medaillon, now they're down with the team Perpatratin for a click, first they wouldn't, now they switched But they ain't gettin rich (Ain't that a bitch?) Go strike a G.Q. pose, I got soul in my stroll So they ban my video (For what?) Cause they didn't like my dress code