Inglorious Lyrics

(School Counselor) [Well Tyler, it's about that time. I mean you're a good kid, just misguided. So is there anything else you want to say before we end this?]


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 12 years i cheated
told the fuckin' 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?"
birthdays, christmas, my only fuckin' wishlist was CD's (and a father) and a new fitted
instead i got some CD's, inhaler, some Ritalin, some white socks
i was hyper 'cuz i ain't get attention from my real pops
cops say i'm supposed to be in jail but they don't notice me
statistics say that niggaz with no fathers ain't gon' be shit
well i guess had one, 'cuz 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 ima need some help on this next part, scream it with me niggas)
FUCK YOU! i'm good. FUCK YOU! i graduated without you.i'm good. FUCK YOU! i'm good. nigga 18. i'm good FUCK YOU! i'm good. you don't gotta call nigga. i'm good. FUCK YOU! eat a dick nigga. bitch

Father's day was the worst when it came to gifts 'cuz i didn't know for who and what the fuck to get
now my mama mentioned the day before that she would like... 'cuz she's playing both roles like her occupation was dyke, fuck it right?
i ain't looked up to Obama and Nixon, i looked up to the Hugo's and Dixon's
the niggaz in the vision rap 'bout the shit they cooking in the kitchen
pushing keys like them niggas that was bangin' on them Keynes
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 momma spent on rent and clothes
you fucking dipped out, i swear to god if i see you imma get out the M16 and let a fuckin' clip out
'cuz them 16 years you let your kid down
existence, none
i don't give a fuck either, like father like son
I'M DONE.

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?
"FUCK YOU!".

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, 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 whose neros stays frio
now this counselor is tryin' to tell me that i'm emo
she don't give a fuck
d-lo, where's the trigger i'll let this bullet play hero

shit, nah, nah fuck that
fuck that, i ain't deserved this
i'm over it