lirik lagu homeboy sandman - table cloth
[verse one] [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 barely care enough to even look in the mirror
i wash chinese food store tupperware
played out b00bs and b-tts and blunts and beer
i’m ungroomed, got guts, make grunts ya hear
i got two big nuts and nothin to fear
i got loose screws wit 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 cr-p
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 caped crusade for the sake of that
hooray for that
i get major dap
i’m in the matrix reppin where a agent at
i’m in your face like flushing where the asian at
i don’t brush shoulders, that’s where my angel at
i heard you cook ‘cane sucka where your apr-n at?
i heard you serve ‘cane/cain sucka where was abel at at?
they like “you’re worldwide homey where your label at?”
oh snap, 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
meant i’s well rested and whippin’ up breakfast
earlier than the rest of the h0m- erectus
the world don’t stop
doesn’t nothin affect this
i won’t go pop
thought that i should address this
i’m loco lots
both a writer and leftist
so y’all go cop
right away, any questions?
[verse two] [homeboy sandman]:
shout out to my moms and pops and
whoever it was decided calling oxes “oxen”
‘fore i spit a ac’ i be weighing my options
kempo, kung fu or drunken boxing
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 stiffing con ed, livin’ as a starving artist
gotta break some eggs makin’ omelets
uncle thomas ain’t my target audience
thank you captain obvious
i don’t swear except for solemnly in my songs and sonnets
ain’t no greater dishonor than being dishonest
enough ballin’, b-ll-cks
you need only seek the sun to find solace
let me show you quick fast how i move m-sses
plasmas and g-sses liquids and solids
radio p-noid cause i’m unpolished
air me on delay, speedy gonzales
i’m the modern day william wallace
always on the go, grinder, globe trotter
tariq trotter, scholar
‘sup wit my medulla oblongata
i don’t hear no fendi, gucci, prada
all i hear is yada yada yada
all i hear is nada
and it’s gettin louder
so i made a vow to
do something about it
head up in the clouds
i’m incredibly grounded
when i’m getting down it’s incredibly crowded
[verse three] [fresh daily]:
i’ll be honest, i ain’t make it to college
but i make raps, so i’ll make you a promise
to give you the bomb-est rhymes, beyond his time
something for the momma’s and poppa’s
something for the toddlers in pampers wit caca
somethin’ for them gangsters packin’ them llamas
somethin’ for them llamas and the alpacas
spittin’ saliva, gettin’ em higher
inventor of the venom that’ll k!ll ’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 & i’m chillin’ with sosa
not there yet, get the feelin’ i’m closer
til my face 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
stayin’ 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 c0ka
i do know hennessy mixed with the cola
my man benamin got beats that’ll fold ya
where’s a.o.k., y’all brother’s fold up?
close up shop and then get ghost huh?
nope
2 hungry bros still cookin’ up dopeness
where’s p.so yo? i don’t know brah
i just flow 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 f-ckin’ gone
peace
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