TYLER THE CREATOR - Inglorious lyrics

rate me

[Verse 1:]

My father died the day I came outta my mother's hole

And left the burden on my soul until I was old enough

To understand that the fuckin' faggot didn't like me much

He loved my moms enough to bust a nut and then he shake Junt

Bringin' pops to school today for twelve years I cheated

Told the fuckin' faculty that he was at a meeting and

Bring that dude to life then he wasn't at the meeting

Made a U-turn on the weather like the fuck am I thinking

Birthdays, Christmas my only fucking wishlist was CD's

And a new fitted instead I got some CD's

I hated some Ritalin, some white socks

I was hyper cause I didn't get attention from my real pops

Cops say I'm supposed to be in jail but they don't know it's me

Statistics say that niggas with no father ain't go be shit

Well I guess I had one because nigga I'm it

You smell that? That's the odor of success bitch

[Interlude:]

I know I'm not the only bastard, in America

So I'm gonna need some help, on this next part, scream it with me niggas

[Hook:]

Fuck you (I'm good)

Fuck you (I graduated)

Without you (I'm good)

Fuck you (I'm good)

Nigga eighteen (I'm good)

Fuck you (I'm good)

Got a car nigga (Fuck you)

Eat a dick nigga, bitch

[Verse 2:]

Father's Day was the worst when it came to gifts

Cause I ain't know for who or what the fuck to get

Now my momma mentioned the day before she would like

Cause she's playin' both roles like her occupation was dyke, fuckin' right

I ain't look to Obama and Nixon, I looked up to the Hugo's and Dixon's

The niggas in the vision rap about the shit they cookin' in the kitchen

Pushin' keys like them niggas that were bangin' on the Keynes

My father never seen me, the nigga probably Stevie

He bought me a couple hoodies a couple albums

Like that's gonna make up the years and the tears

And the money that my momma spent on rent and clothes

You fuckin' dicked out, I swear to God if I see you

I'm a get out the M-16 and let a fuckin' clip out

Cause in 16 years, you let your kid down the existence, none

I don't give a fuck either like father like son I'm done

[Hodgy Beats:]

He ain't give a fuck about me

He ain't give a fuck about you

He ain't give a fuck about we

So what the fuck we gon' do?

[Hook]

[Verse 3:]

The cold is nice, and I ain't talkin' 'bout the weather

The skin is thick, no need for leather, your father called

He said you're better without him, I'm not the only fuck

Without them, how to tie a tie and how to get your suit hemped up

Take it to the shop, then what?

Fuck it, mommas proud of her asthmatic thin fuck

Luck on my brim Supreme keeps me warm

When the cold blood swarms in my veins, fuck rain in the summer

The bummer is the fact that I'm black

And I hang with white neos who's nero stays frio

Now this consulor is tryna tell me that I'm emo, she don't give a fuck

D-low where's the trigger, I'll let this bullet play hero