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tyler the creator - bastard lyrics

“b-st-rd”

this is what the devil plays before he goes to sleep
some food for thought some food for death, go ‘head and f-ckin’ eat
my father’s dead well i don’t know, we’ll never f-ckin’ meet
i cut my wrist and play piano cause i’m so depressed
somebody call the pastor, this b-st-rd is so posessed
this meetin’ just begun, n-gg- i’m satan’s son

my mother raised me a single parent so it’s apparent
that i got love for my mother, none of you other f-ckas
are much important i’m gettin’ angrier while recordin’
i’m feelin’ like the bulls, i’ve got a gang of wolves
odd future is children that’s f-cked up on they mental
simple but probably not, f-ck ’em

i’m tall, dark, skinny, my ears are big as f-ck
drunk white girls the only way i’ll get my d-ck sucked
suspended from school coolest n-gg- without effort
easy to spot like black b-tches with fake leopard
soak me up in a tampon, but keep the lamp on
cause this alb-m packs enough evil
that you can’t fit inside a jansport, go to school with this

i go from ap to jc inside of f-ckin’ week
wakin’ up with random girls like “yo, b-tch, how the f-ck we meet?”
i stay with grandma, she always b-tchin’ about her carpet
every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start sh-t
no to drugs i never spark it, i used to be bullied for honour cl-sses
by those slow as mol-sses, take this sh-t to school

raquel treat me like my father like a f-ckin’ stranger
she still don’t know i made sarah to strangle her
not put her in danger and chop her up in the back of a wrangler
all because she said no to homecomin’, demons runnin’
inside my head tellin’ me evil thoughts
i’m the dream catcher but nothin’ but nightmares i caught, go to sleep

i wear green hats because i’m fortunately lucky
f-ck me the monster said, some how the monster’s dead
inside of me, but the thoughts it tells me are still evil
with this state of mind, big moves, max keeble
i’m on my grind feeble, my music is evil
my f-ckin’ samples are too illegal, play this sh-t in church

i graduated without honors or a f-ckin’ father
he died, no b-tch, don’t even f-ckin’ bother
i wanted a brother my mother i told her
but instead i got a sister, just like me with her mister nada
so both of our imaginations are creations of the f-ckin’ situation
that’s havin’ our brains racin’ like dayton, wearin’ some f-ckin’ heelies

i know you f-ckin’ feel me, i want to f-ckin’ kill me
but times i’m so serious you think i’m silly
i’m doin’ big style w-lly couldn’t touch 11
seven. what’s religion n-gg-? i am legend
i roll with skaters and musicians with an intuition
i created o.f. cause i feel we’re more talented
than 40 year old rappers talkin’ ’bout gucci
when they have kids they haven’t seen in years, impressin’ their peers
with the same problem, the only way to solve them
is to go to father’s day convention with a gold revolver
life’s a salad i’mma toss it eat that sh-t up, rick ross it
sh-t it out, bag it up sell it, i’m so d-mn rebellious
cause my mother let me do what i want
she wasn’t careless, protective she is the bear
the sh-t is so bare, my diary isn’t hid
my father didn’t give a f-ck, so it’s somethin’ i inherit
my mom’s all i have so it’s never meet the parents
when danielle or malonda decide to f-ckin’ share
this confused boy, i wanna hug all ya, i’m bad for you kids to listen to
soy is not the choice, i’m bad milk, drink it

my wrist is all red from the cutter
drippin’ cold blood like the winter, the summer
is never that’s equivalent to me and sarah
well that’s not her f-ckin name, but i think this sh-t is clever
my n-gg-s wanna know if i’m f-ckin’, if i’m kissin’
but i’m sittin’ here downin’ beers simply just wishin’
with tear they try to tell me but i never listen
cause i don’t give a sh-t like sittin’ down p-ssin’
eighteen, still talkin’ to imaginaries
hopefully they see the talent i carry just like jimmy
losers can never win me, you can never offend me
my goal in life is a grammy, hopefully momma will attend the
ceremony with all my homies, i’m suicidal
this my zombie circus, i hope the majors heard this
f-ck a deal, i just want my father’s email
so i can tell him how much i f-ckin’ hate him in detail

- tyler the creator lyrics

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