Dresscode - Urban Dance Squad



I'm strictly thanos on your anus

shit is not the same as

I'm powerful cosmic

on drumkicks

people call me famous for that

I'm fat like the records from 'big cat'

on the boombap, vocab

I stick like treesap

tight, right, ignite

like c-4 plastic

when limbs and arms struggle from the bomb

shit gets drastic

I'm strictly claymore

no need to say more

I got the goofy-lookin' tootsy when they call

themselves so hardcore

now industry sells with the weak and plastic

lyrically, they show their buttcheeks like it's pornographic

choreographic ญญ whore ญญ your ego catched it

on your first contract, grabbed the check and dashed it

you're fake, second-rate skills, no scruples to hide it

styles that smell like a bad case of gingivitus

you got the best gimmick, like the 'instapumpinflater'

I'm shack-attack reebok, run the floor on you fakers

with that



dresscode, dresscode

everybody's tryin' to hide it from me how to

dresscode,

I don't dress to impress but I'm strapped

with ricochet raps, you get your bulletproof vest



summer in the city

grab a coke and take seats

got a spoonful of flavor, seldom savored like

wildebeest

yo hops, baby pop, you slop in the mccoy zone

this is not the toyz-, the boyz-, but the destroyzone

so when you're fullgrown, for that accident prone

my rap penetrates like uvb through ozone

ever since I started, sorta off guard to shit/ offguarded

learned that true pioneers seldom get rewarded

I persevere when atmosphere gets money-orientated

dig the crates, real stealth, with rapwealth,

release, and get debated

8 days a week I peak, like beatles on acidtrips

revolutionary, very

like the year '66

kinda queer to see them snatchin' titles, call themselves

grand royal

like yack I rock proud, release my mortal coil

your middleclass grungetrash, style is outdated

like that bellbotom, jheri curl, time to get faded



dresscode, dresscode ญญ



if rap was crack, I'd be a crackhead

if a whack style was sex, I'd stay celibate

should I say orthodox on the flock; say, what do I rock ?

no buttnaked style dressed like sis and get dropped

what I do, what you see, what I say, it's what you do

next day celeb, other day look poo-poo

funky dope maneuvers make a rapper look stupid and silly

crack egos like the cracks in liberty bell from philly

scorin' points, check the ruler, who has won ?

rockets from houston, like olajuwon took apart robinson

arsenal of moves to prove it's not the pants that's saggin'

put the belt so tight, g-funkers choke on rappin'

you sneak-a-peek more than b-boys at a knocker/footlocker

you must be outta-yo-rocka, to catch the bucks and try to duck a

style that's dieharder with a vengeance

like willis, I'm the illest, on the cheesy, no resemblance

with that



dresscode, dresscode



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