Lyrics
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey Hey
What's your fashion?
I don't care what styles he wears his stocks and shares, it don't phase me
Looking good is understood but designer goods, it don't claim me
He may have 300 pairs and fancy flares and counting
I'd rather see your ripped up jean, a vintage jean, no faking
Clothes don't make a man, but man
Put on the right gear, they'll call you the man
Catch me with a button down, blue and white Adidas
Doctor on the dome with a feather on the side
511 jeans, relaxed fit
Aviator glasses known for the rhymes I spit
But when I'm stepping out, I gotta play my part
Besides the music, my ensemble is my art
On the sidewalk, I do my little twirl
Twirl around, girl
On the sidewalk, I do my little turn
Go on, turn around
On the sidewalk, I do my little thing
Go on, do your ting
On the sidewalk, I got some style to bring
I'm out here, I'm dressed in sheer and shutting down the pavement
Got some slacks, all style in black these pieces, my arrangement
Am I to blame cause y'all look the same at every engagement
At least I'm bold, or so I'm told It's my move, let me claim it
On the sidewalk, stepping like a panther
These are slacks, not just pants, sir
Stacey Adams, polished dress shoes
Thrift store finds, her dress is used
Or should I say, vintage at an advantage
Advanced with, superior style, this man's lit
Billie Jean dance floor, spin like the Pop King
Pearl bracelet, shine like a pop ring
On the sidewalk, I do my little twirl
Twirl around, girl
On the sidewalk, I do my little turn
Go on, turn around
On the sidewalk, I do my little thing
Go on, do your ting
On the sidewalk, I have some style to bring
On the sidewalk, I do my little twirl
Twirl around, girl
On the sidewalk, I do my little turn
Go on, turn around