Lyrics Table Cloth feat. Fresh Daily - Homeboy Sandman

Table Cloth feat. Fresh Daily

I don’t buy new clothes to wear
I don’t shave, don’t bathe, don’t cut my hair
If it was up to me I’d walk around naked and bare
I don’t really care enough to even look in the mirror
I wash Chinese food store Tupperware
Played out boobs and butts and blunts and beer
Among who got guts make blunts in here
I got two big nuts and nothin to fear
I got loose screws and a screw face to match
I don’t about-face I ain’t got a taste for that
If I really want something I’ll pray for that
I don’t worry 'bout how I’m gonna pay for crap
Ain’t no pavement where I ain’t good at
And ain’t no place where I’m gonna stay put at
My home base, where the forsaken at
I cape crusade for the sake of that
I’m in the matrix where more agent at?
I’m in your face like Flushing, where the Asian at?
I don’t brush shoulders where my angel at?
I heard you’re cook 'cane sucka where your apron at?
I heard you serve 'cane son where your staple at?
You like you’re worldwide homey where your label at?
Most of you unsigned, how did you finagle that?
While everybody else was busy trying to get on the guest list
I was busy trying to be ambidextrous
Minutes well rested and whippin' up breakfast
Earlier than the rest of the homo erectus
The world don’t stop
Doesn’t nothin affect this
Thought that I should address this
Local writer and leftist
By the way, any questions?
Shout out to my moms and pops and
Brother was inside, they called ox’s «oxen»
Forced with an ock I’m aware of my options
Kimbo come for drunken boxin'
Columnists constantly callin' me conscious
Columnists constantly calling me conscious
Cause I’m straight out of comp' not straight out of Compton
No labels on my cloth necessary for confidence
Only the table cloth on my table of contents
Ain’t no comfort we ain’t already accomplished
We go hard regardless
Lotta sniffin' Con Ed, livin' as a starving artist
Gotta break some eggs makin' omelets
Always hummus in my target audience
Thank you captain obvious
I don’t swear except for solemnly in my songs and sonnets
Ain’t nowhere to dishonor that made dishonest
Enough ballin', bollocks
You need only seek the son to find solace
Let me show you quick how I move masses
Plasma and gasses liquids and solids
Radio p-noid cause I’m on call list
Hear me on delay, Speedy Gonzales
I’m the modern day William Wallace
Always on the go round the globe trotter
Tariq Trotter, scholar
Somethin' out my medulla oblongata
I don’t hear no Fendi, Gucci, Prada
All I hear is yada yada yada
And it’s gettin louder
Do something about it
Head up in the clouds
I’m incredibly beyond it
When I’m getting down it’s incredibly crowded
I be on the St. Nick of the college
Make raps go so I’ll make you a promise
To give you the bombest rhymes beyond his time
Something for the momma’s and poppa’s
Something for the toddlers in Pampers and caca
Somethin' for them gangsters packin' them Llamas
Somethin' for them llamas and the alpacas
Spittin' saliva, gettin' em higher
Venom for the denim that’ll kill 'em in one dose
Know when you with friends and when you among foes
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer
In the studio when I’m chillin' with Sosa
Not there yet, get the feelin' I’m closer
Obvious, in the mags and my name’s on the poster
This ain’t a game and I ain’t a jokester
I mean what I say and I say what I mean
I remain on the scene, say I’m no poser
I remain composed, something like Mozart
Layin' in my lane, got drive like a chauffeur
All I really know is that my flows doper
I don’t know weed and I don’t know coka
I do know Hennessy mixed with the cola
My man,?, got used to the Folgers
Where’s A.O.K., did y’all brother’s fold up?
Close up shop and make it ghost huh?
2 Hungry Bros still cookin' up dopeness
Where’s P. So yo?
I don’t know brah
Tryin' to stack paper till my papers like Oprahs
Oh yeah, I go dumb like my tongue went numb
Bed Stuy Brooklyn’s where I’m from
If I can’t say just what I want
Then I’ll say nothin' I’m fuckin' gone