W.C. Lyrics
W.C. Lyrics
"Dress Code Lyrics"
You Keep A Diary Lyrics
YOU THINK YOUR LIFE'S SO IMPORTANT YOU HAVE TO WRITE IT DOWN YOU'RE JUST A FUCKING FAGGOT NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU YOU, YOU KEEP A DIARY YOU POMPOUS ASSHOLE DICKFACE YOU'LL PROBABLY WRITE A BOOK ONLY ANOTHER ASSHOLE WOULD PUBLISH IT YOU DUMB STUPID FAG
YOU THINK YOUR LIFE'S SO IMPORTANT YOU HAVE TO WRITE IT DOWN YOU'RE JUST A FUCKING FAGGOT NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU YOU, YOU KEEP A DIARY YOU POMPOUS ASSHOLE DICKFACE YOU'LL PROBABLY WRITE A BOOK ONLY ANOTHER ASSHOLE WOULD PUBLISH IT YOU DUMB STUPID FAG
[ 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
What's It Take? Lyrics
You’re lonely can I see you I hire a private red-eye rocket But when I walk in here You wanna go through all my pockets What’s it take? Mamma what’s it take? I’ve known you all these years And still you overhaul my letters They don’t confirm your fears But when I’m dead you’ll know me better What’s it take? Mamma what’s it take? My mistake was thinking I had it covered I haven’t made the first move What’s it take to get it thro
Live in South Central, they assume you got a jail recordYou’re lonely can I see you I hire a private red-eye rocket But when I walk in here You wanna go through all my pockets What’s it take? Mamma what’s it take? I’ve known you all these years And still you overhaul my letters They don’t confirm your fears But when I’m dead you’ll know me better What’s it take? Mamma what’s it take? My mistake was thinking I had it covered I haven’t made the first move What’s it take to get it thro
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 m
The Pawn That Could Not Lyrics
Discard The pawn who could not Progress In your game A pawn who could not progress My life a constant Struggle in which you placed me A test of wills for My weakness to be displayed Why do you Want to Destroy? Why do you Smile at My pain? A king never crowned
a fade and a pair of tight pantsDiscard The pawn who could not Progress In your game A pawn who could not progress My life a constant Struggle in which you placed me A test of wills for My weakness to be displayed Why do you Want to Destroy? Why do you Smile at My pain? A king never crowned
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 weari
The Last Straw Lyrics
(Fish, Steve Rothery, Mark Kelly, Pete Trewavas, Ian Mosley) Hotel hobbies padding dawn's hollow corridors A typewriter cackles out a stream of memories Drying out a conscience, evicting a nightmare Opening the doors for the dreams to come home We live our lives in private shells Ignore our senses and fool ourselves To thinking that out there that someone else cares Someone to answer all our prayers, all our prayers... Are we too far gone, are we so irresponsible Have
n my beeper(Fish, Steve Rothery, Mark Kelly, Pete Trewavas, Ian Mosley) Hotel hobbies padding dawn's hollow corridors A typewriter cackles out a stream of memories Drying out a conscience, evicting a nightmare Opening the doors for the dreams to come home We live our lives in private shells Ignore our senses and fool ourselves To thinking that out there that someone else cares Someone to answer all our prayers, all our prayers... Are we too far gone, are we so irresponsible Have
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