Inglorious

(album: Bastard - 2009)

[Dr. TC:]
Well, Tyler, uh
It's about that time
I mean, you're a good kid, just misguided
Okay, so is there anything else you wanna say before we end this?

[Tyler, the Creator:]
My father died the day I came out of my mother's hole
And left a burden on my soul, until I was old enough
To understand that the fucking faggot didn't like me much
He loved my moms enough to bust a nut and then he... (Shake Junt)
Bring Your Pops to School Day, for twelve years, I cheated
Told the fucking faculty that he was at a meeting and
Bring That Dude to Life day, he wasn't at the meeting
Made a U-turn on the way there like, "The fuck am I thinking?" (What?)
Birthdays, Christmas, my only fucking wish list
Was CDs (And a father) and a new fit
Instead, I got some CDs, inhaler, some Ritalin, some white socks
I was hyper 'cause I ain'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 gon' be shit (Nigga!)
Well I guess I had one, 'cause, nigga, I'm it
You smell that? (Yeah!) That's the odor of success, bitch

I know I'm not the only bastard
In America
So I'm gon' to need some help, on this next part
Scream it with me, niggas

[Tyler, the Creator with Hodgy Beats:]
(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

[Tyler, the Creator:]
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 mama mentioned the day before what she would like
'Cause she's playing both roles, like her occupation was dyke, fucking right
I ain't look up to Obama and Nixon (Nope)
I look up to the Hugos and Dixons (Yup)
The niggas in the vision, rap about the shit they cooking in the kitchen
Pushing keys, like them niggas that were banging on them keys
My father never seen me, the nigga probably Stevie
He bought me a hoodie, a couple albums
Like that's gonna make up for the years and the tears
And the money that my mama spent on rent and clothes
You fucking dipped out, I swear to God, if I see you I'ma get out
The M-16 and let a fucking clip out (rah!)
'Cause in 16 years, you let your kid doubt 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?

[Tyler, the Creator with Hodgy Beats:]
(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

[Tyler, the Creator:]
The cold is nice, and I'm not talking '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 hemmed
Up, take it to the shop, then, what?
Fuck it, momma's proud of her asthmatic, thin fuck
Luck on my brim, Sup-preme 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 whose marrow stays frío
Now, this counselor 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

Shit
No, no, fuck that
Fuck that
I ain't deserve this
I'm over it
Bang!