Table Cloth feat. Fresh Daily - Homeboy Sandman

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