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Tyler, The Creator - Inglorious Lyrics



Tyler, The Creator - Inglorious Lyrics




[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 f*ckin' 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 f*ckin' 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 f*ck am I thinking
Birthdays, Christmas my only f*cking 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:]
F*ck you (I'm good)
F*ck you (I graduated)
Without you (I'm good)
F*ck you (I'm good)
Nigga eighteen (I'm good)
F*ck you (I'm good)
Got a car nigga (F*ck 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 f*ck to get
Now my momma mentioned the day before she would like
Cause she's playin' both roles like her occupation was dyke, f*ckin' 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 f*ckin' dicked out, I swear to God if I see you
I'm a get out the M-16 and let a f*ckin' clip out
Cause in 16 years, you let your kid down the existence, none
I don't give a f*ck either like father like son I'm done

[Hodgy Beats:]
He ain't give a f*ck about me
He ain't give a f*ck about you
He ain't give a f*ck about we
So what the f*ck 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 f*ck
Without them, how to tie a tie and how to get your suit hemped up
Take it to the shop, then what?
F*ck it, mommas proud of her asthmatic thin f*ck
Luck on my brim Supreme keeps me warm
When the cold blood swarms in my veins, f*ck 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 f*ck
D-low where's the trigger, I'll let this bullet play hero
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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[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 f*ckin' 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 f*ckin' 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 f*ck am I thinking
Birthdays, Christmas my only f*cking 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:]
F*ck you (I'm good)
F*ck you (I graduated)
Without you (I'm good)
F*ck you (I'm good)
Nigga eighteen (I'm good)
F*ck you (I'm good)
Got a car nigga (F*ck 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 f*ck to get
Now my momma mentioned the day before she would like
Cause she's playin' both roles like her occupation was dyke, f*ckin' 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 f*ckin' dicked out, I swear to God if I see you
I'm a get out the M-16 and let a f*ckin' clip out
Cause in 16 years, you let your kid down the existence, none
I don't give a f*ck either like father like son I'm done

[Hodgy Beats:]
He ain't give a f*ck about me
He ain't give a f*ck about you
He ain't give a f*ck about we
So what the f*ck 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 f*ck
Without them, how to tie a tie and how to get your suit hemped up
Take it to the shop, then what?
F*ck it, mommas proud of her asthmatic thin f*ck
Luck on my brim Supreme keeps me warm
When the cold blood swarms in my veins, f*ck 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 f*ck
D-low where's the trigger, I'll let this bullet play hero
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Tyler Okonma
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




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