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Lyrics | Artists: W | WC AND THE MAAD CIRCLE lyrics | Dress Code lyrics

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

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[ 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`ma 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

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