Warm up: Black man with a fresh cut Pants sagging, see you done messed up Dress code got the n***a coming out'cha Ain't spoke one word, but they know all about'cha Top down with my hat low Riding round wit nowhere to go Beat up, working on my latest flow (Sirens), go ahead n***a take it slow Verse One: (Nah) Why do n***as get nervous, when them sirens surface? Probably cause they'll stomp a n***a out on purpose Homie must've fit a description You know the one that fit the dark skin you in Got any weapons? Where the weed n***a? In other words, a reminder that we n***as Check my record.. the sh**s clean Grew up on the southside where they claim them streets mean But every weapon drawn on me, been by those with badges Imagine.. what that do to a teenage psyche Or the n***as in my hood that look just like me Just showing off my new pair of all blue Nikes Now I'm gang affiliated, with straight A's?, unlikely n***a ain't even out of High School And they taught me life don't play by my rules Just sit back, shut the f** up and be cool And if you don't, well, peace dude Orange suit, pink bottoms, that's the dress code In that 6, ducee, in the middle drop that O Private prisons shopping n***as on the low Line'em up and knock'em over just like some dominos Truth is that lil n***a had no where to go Just headed down the road of the life he know Hook: Black man with a fresh cut Pants sagging, see you done messed up Dress code got the n***a coming out'cha Ain't spoke one word, but they know all about'cha This life got all kind of rules Sometimes they let a n***a by if he kind of cool Just smile and put on the best show But.. be weary of ya dress code Verse Two: They only like to scratch the surface You left ya block, now you got'em all nervous On elevators, they clutch they purses We started snatching'em, sh** got worse then The lil homie, just dropped out of school Got a b**h pregnant, started flashing his tool Slung a lil dope and I asked why dude? He said... cuz that's what's n***a do How can you excel, when ya only hope is jail? When they treat you like a loser you can only expect to fail Gotta read between the lines, when you living in the hell If they hide it from ya eyes then learn to read braille Hidden Colors, this life don't love us Black woman's only hope show yo a** in them covers King Magazine, I thought he had a dream Woke up and saw Trayvon's murder scene sh**, look what they doing to Obama Brought'em into office just so he can drop bombs brah Protect Monsanto, snatch some civil rights He ain't in control yall, why can't you see the light? Black man's plight, black man's struggle Black men bred to fight, so black men hustle Truth is we got no where to go Just headed down the road of the life we know Hook: Black man with a fresh cut Pants sagging, see you done messed up Dress code got the n***a coming out'cha Ain't spoke one word, but they know all about'cha This life got all kind of rules Sometimes they let a n***a by if he kind of cool Just smile and put on the best show But.. be weary of ya dress code Verse Three: (Spoken Word) Ladies and Gentleman, Welcome to America's wasteland, your local neighborhood ghetto Where the grind is so deep, we can't seem to let go Surrounded by pimps, playas, hustlas and fiends Where things are as they seem, a land with no dreams No hope, no ambition, but n***as still got a make a living Ain't no 9 to 5's so I guess its time to ride Got kids we gotta provide for, keep ya eyes open for 5-0 Cuz they don't give a f**, they toss the d** in ya back seat to make that quota And the ones outside of the ghetto hear about the drama but they don't wanna know though So we find ourselves stuck in a cycle, And when you try to rise above it all best friends become rivals.. Hook: Black man with a fresh cut Pants sagging, see you done messed up Dress code got the n***a coming out'cha Ain't spoke one word, but they know all about'cha This life got all kind of rules Sometimes they let a n***a by if he kind of cool Just smile and put on the best show But.. be weary of ya dress code