Lyrics Dress Code - Cal Scruby

Dress Code

I don’t gotta follow fucking dress code
I ain’t never gotta work a desk job
Got that Henny in the cup and I’m drinkin' XO
(faded faded)
Promise I ain’t even tryna flex though
No lie, I
Straight off the rip
Hop out the whip
Escort me right to the VIP
Woo!
You in the line that I skip
If I were you I would be pissed
If you were me you would be rich
She see that gold on my neck
See that Rollie on my wrist
I suggest you keep a leash on that bitch
If you plan on keepin' that bitch, Yeah
I don’t wanna you know we don’t save hoes
She just chose me that’s how the game go
I was in the studio with the fake
Then I went to Greystone in the same clothes
Now I’m blowing smoke up in my section
Try to pass around me, it get intercepted
I don’t need a guard for protection
I just thank y’all for the blessing
Ain’t sell my soul
225 for the eighth that I rolled
Flowers are purple my papers are gold
That shit look just like the Lakers at home
Woah!
Smoke it to stay in my zone
Oh!
She wanna play with the pros
We out here ballin' like Stockton, Malone
I hit the club then I pick em and roll
I don’t gotta follow fucking dress code
(Oh my, oh my)
I ain’t never gotta work a desk job
(No lie, no lie)
Got that Henny in the cup and I’m drinkin' XO
(oh my, oh my)
Promise I ain’t even tryna flex though
No lie, I
Pick a ride, pick a ride no I can’t choose
Pull up at the W you know I can’t lose
Why you trippin' over bitches that I ran through
They just did it for the bands like Famuel
They just want the finny and the Prada
Hoodie up top down in the Ferarri
Hopped out in the Gucci foamposite with the joggers
I ain’t never worked a desk job while I go to college
I don’t know, guess I had to grow
I was on the Dean’s list, I was on a roll
Way before the team had to get it on my own
Now we bout to get a ring and we runnin' up the score
Yeah we runnin' up the score
Don’t you let it get you down
Top floor look around me in the clouds
Flickin' the cigarette off the balcony
Take 45 seconds to hit the ground
I’m way up, I stay up, I lay low
Cause I know all these bitches wanna end up on the payroll
I don’t take in instructive criticism, I ain’t building with em
They ain’t working with me, what do they know
I go way up on the roof, that’s the truth
I could parachute
Landing in the rarest coupe
In a pair of boots
I, bet all these motherfuckers wearing suites can’t stand me
I could wear a motherfucking bathrobe to the Grammy’s
You Know
I don’t gotta follow fucking dress code
(Oh my, oh my)
I ain’t never gotta work a desk job
(No lie, no lie)
Got that Henny in the cup and I’m drinkin' XO
(Oh my, oh my)
Promise I ain’t even tryna flex though
No lie, I