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 today 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 f*ck am I thinking" Birthdays, Christmas my only fucking wishlist was CD's (and a father) And a new fitted instead I got some CD's I hated, some Ritalin, some white socks I was hyper because 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 going to be shit Well I guess I had one because nigga I'm it You smell that? That's the odor of success bitch I know I'm not the only bastard in America So I'm going to need some help, on this next part Scream it with me niggas 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 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 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, I look up to the Hugo's and Dixon's The niggas in the vision rap about the shit they cooking in the kitchen Pushing keys like them niggas that were banging on the keys My father never seen me, the nigga probably Stevie He bought me a hoodie, a couple albums Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears And the money that my momma spent on rent and clothes You fucking dipped out, I swear to God if I see you I'm a get out the M-16 and let a fucking clip out Cause in sixteen years, you let your kid down the existence, none I don't give a f*ck either like father, like son, I'm done 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 going to do? 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 The cold is nice, and I'm not talking about 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 hemmed up Take it to the shop, then what? F*ck it, momma's 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 counselor is trying to 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 bang
Written by: Tyler Okonma
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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"Inglorious Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 25 Sep. 2022. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/22401225/Tyler%2C+the+Creator/Inglorious>.