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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 ­­ 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call themselves grand royal like yack I rock proud, release my mortal coil your middleclass grungetrash, style is outdated like that bellbotom, jheri curl, time to get faded dresscode, dresscode ­­ if rap was crack, I'd be a crackhead if a whack style was sex, I'd stay celibate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 ­­