(You wouldn't do that, Tyler.
Kill yourself or anyone.
You don't even have the balls to begin with.
What you need is me.
Someone to talk to.
Uh, it's been a while since our last session.
So, tell me what's been going on.)
I'm not a fuckin' role model.
(I know this.)
I'm a nineteen year old
Fuckin' emotional coaster
With pipe dreams.
Since Kanye tweeted tellin' people
He's bumpin' all of my shit
These motherfuckers think I'm supposed to live up to something, shit.
I'm still jackin' off
And proceeding my life careless.
But getting more pussy
'Cause I tell bitches I'm Wood Harris.
(As you should.)
From Philly to Paris
I'm getting these weird stares
At skate parks and airports.
All in the air, it's weird.
Yonkers dropped and left the craniums mind-fucked.
Now competetion missin' like that nigga my mom fucked.
He still hasn't called me yet.
(That's not your fault.)
But that's a whole fuckin' different argument.
Shit, I got over it.
And a couple bucks in my pockets,
So now I could go buy a couple Hot Pockets.
And grandma can stop cookin' them nasty ass colive greens.
Pressures on me like this top hat
Bastard intro, how the fuck I'm gonna top that?
(Tyler, you'll top it, you'll top that, you're a very canning individual)
Okay, you guys called me,
I'm not a fuckin' rapist or a serial killer, I lied.
(We know, you just want attention. And you're fine.)
I try too hard, huh?
(No, you don't)
Made a couple thou'
And I just don't know what to buy yet.
The 'preme shit is free.
And I don't drink,
So fuck a wine set.
Nigga, fuck a mind set
My brain is an obscenity.
I'm fucked in the head.
I lost my mind with my virginity.
Oh, that's a triple three six,
Isn't he a devil worshipper?
'Cause I'm too fuckin' ignorant to do some research.
I'm the star of the group.
So no one else gets the respect that they deserve 'cause of
('Cause of you. Bastard was good though.)
Whatchu think I recorded for?
To have a bunch of critics call my shit a bunch a horrorcore?
Like I didn't make Parade or Inglorious.
'Cause I'm too scared to tell my friends
The way I really fuckin' feel.
Of course they only listen
The lyrics about me pissing off in the tombs of Lara Croft.
I'm getting pissed off.
Message boards are on my dick.
I need a pissin' waver.
Lemme bust one in they mouth,
I know they feel the flavor.
(So, I'm lost...)
Can't they just be happy for me,
Like the kid with nothin' livin' out his dreams,
Why they gotta fuckin' hate?
(I think everyone's happy,
Everyone's rooting for you,
Everyone loves you, Tyler, you have to believe that.)
I-I-I don't even skate anymore.
I'm too fuckin' busy.
I can barely kickflip now.
(Why, why is that, do you not have any free time in your hands?)
What the fuck you mean I'm not talented?
You seen the shit I've been doin'?
(I have, I think you're a bright person.)
I mean I'm not that great of a rapper,
But as a whole I'm pretty cool, right?
People excited, think his shit is so tight.
Getting co-signs from rappers that I don't even like.
What the fuck you want me to do?
Start to gobble his mic,
And start jacks'in him off
Until his cack blastin' off?
Fuck that, these niggas, they fuckin' with me.
'Cause I don't listen to the Immortal of Tech-of-the-nique
And all this underground bullshit.
That's never gon' peak on the Billboard Top 20
And Jam of the Week.
I'd rather listen to Badu and Pusha the T
And some Waka Flocka Flame
Instead of that real hip-hop
That's bull of the sheet.
But they wanna critique
Everything that we Wolf Gang
Has ever released, but they don't get it.
(They don't, that's not made for them.)
'Cause it's not made for them.
The nigga that's in the mirror rappin',
It's made for him.
But they do not have the mind set
That's same as him.
I'm not weird, you're just a faggot.
Shame on him.
(It is... But Tyler,
You're gonna have to cut down on that faggot word,
'Cause that's very, that's, that's a bad...)
I'm not homophobic.
(I mean I don't think you are, but...)
(Alright, well since the last time we've...)
The fuck is a good performance?
I get on stage and I have as much fun as I can.
(I mean you, you, it seems like you have fun.
The Twitter posts, I mean they're really random
And it's ad-)
Who doesn't have add? Well, I don't.
(I mean it seems like you just seem really out by these things.
And you just wanna know what's the problem for this.)
I wish Thebe was here.
Therapy's been sinnin'
And niggas' getting offended.
They don't want to fuck with me
'Cause I do not fuck with religion.
You see that's my decision.
You fuckers don't have to listen.
Here, put this middle finger in your ear.
(I'll rather not.)
If someone gets blamed 'cause some white kid had aimed
His ak-47 at forty-seven kids.
I don't wanna see my name mentioned.
(I don't think anyone's gonna,
I don't think anyone takes you serious enough to believe you.)
College wasn't workin'
And I wasn't workin'
So I was at home jerkin' off until my dick was hurtin'.
But I was determined to be great.
So this class it could wait.
'Cause the four days that I went
I wasn't learnin' shit.
(I mean you, you...)
Now I'm livin' dreams that I wanted since eight.
I can afford to get my mother somethin' on her birthday.
(I mean you explain to me that you were in school, but,
I mean, I-I...)
They claim the shit I say is just wrong.
Like nobody has those really dark thoughts when alone.
I'm just a teenager who admits he's suicide prone.
My life is doin' pretty good.
So that date is post-poned for now,
Wow, life's a cute bitch full of estrogen.
And when she gives you lemons, nigga, throw 'em at pedestrians.
(So, what're you saying? Take advantage?
I mean you've been doing pretty good, I see that.)
Still livin' my grandma's house.
Sellout a fuckin' show in London
Just to end up on couches.
I hate my fuckin' life.
But when I make that announcement.
My hero calls my phone just to put that in doubt then,
Then I am confused if I want in or just out.
My friends really think I'm playin' when I say I need counseling.
I sit in grandmother's living room
And just pout and shout loud.
Inside sometimes I just wanna die.
(No you don't.)
Odd Future came from the bottom
And it's gonna take a couple armed armies tryna stop 'em.
All you fuckin' lames don't have to like me.
The devil doesn't wear Prada.
But clearly in a fuckin' white tee.
(Woah. Uhm. Alright, uh. So you's was telling me you went to New York.)
Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/t/tyler_the_creator/goblin.html