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  • Текст песни Urban Dance Squad - Dresscode



    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 whore 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    Your middleclass grungetrash, style is outdated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

    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