Tyler, The Creator
Suicidal Thoughts
[Verse 1]
When I die, fuck it, I wanna go to hell
Cause I’m a piece of shit, it ain’t that hard to fuckin’ tell
Blogs say I’m the shit, but I can’t detect the smell
Haven’t tried to be successful, cause I’m afraid to fail
Wearing all yellow, now I'm praying to the Devil
And I dig my own ditch and I brought my own shovel
Carvings on my arms, fuck lame on my wrists
And nobody gave a fuck, I thought Sarah would give a hint
Fuck Commercial, my show would never be a hit
But I have dreams of being able to fuck every bitch
That could breathe, that got knees, with a twat, I myself
Fuck a chain, fuck swag, fuck a prop, period
Make my own rules, fuck a cop
You n***as with these one-sighted visions, cyclops over my blocks bridging
Stitching up Sarah name like it was my cling to fame
In retrospect, O.F. is a fucking game
We terrorizing old folks, smoke, skates, rape sluts that chew dick
Run around, grab a new inhaler like I’m not sick
But I’m not bitch, counselors tell me all my issues like I’m not it
Demented, in my own dimension
Couple “Fuck you”’s and donuts is my division
Chopping up my wrist with incisions, no second decisions
Creator of shit with no inventions, look
Tryna get the heavens to listen, but I can’t
Because I’m my own fuckin’ religion
And they think I’m tryna be different
But I don’t give a shit like sitting down pissing
I’m a black panther in white skin, like a lesbian who like men
Fuck friends, I don’t even know how to begin
Well this is the beginning of new ends
[Outro]
Fin