Bastard by Tyler the Creator Lyrics Meaning – Unraveling the Complex Tapestry of a Tortured Soul
Lyrics
And any other fuck-nigga-ass blog that can’t put a
Eighteen year old nigga making his own fucking beats
Covers, videos and all that shit
Fuck you post-Drake-ass cliche-jerking, LA-Slauson rapping
Fuck-nigga-ass Hypebeast niggas, now back to the album
Well, Tyler, hi, I’m Dr. Tc, and um, I’m guessing
That your teacher sent you here to talk ’cause you were misbehaving
Um, it’s gonna be three sessions, today, tomorrow, Wednesday
So, just tell me something about yourself
Well look, if, if you don’t talk
I mean these sessions are going to go slower, slower
This is what the Devil plays before he goes to sleep
Some food for thought some food for death, go ‘head and fucking eat
My father’s dead well I don’t know, we’ll never fucking meet
I cut my wrist and play piano ’cause I’m so depressed
Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed
This meeting just begun, nigga 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 fuckers
Are much important I’m getting angrier while recording
I’m feeling like the Bulls, I’ve got a Gang of Wolves
Odd Future is children that’s fucked up in they mental
Simple well probably not, fuck ’em
I’m tall, dark, skinny, my ears are big as fuck
Drunk white girls the only way I’ll get my dick sucked
Suspended from school coolest nigga without effort
Easy to spot like black bitches with fake leopard
Soak me up in the tampon, but keep the lamp on
‘Cause this album pack enough evil
That you can’t fit inside a Jansport
Go to school with this
I go from AP to JC inside of fucking week
Waking up with random girls like, “Yo, bitch, how the fuck we meet?”
I stay with grandma, she always bitching about her carpet
Every time I walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit
No to drugs I never spark it, I used to be bullied for honor classes
By those that were slow as molasses
Take this shit to school
Raquel treat me like my father like a fucking 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 be’cause she said no to homecoming, demons running
Inside my head it’s telling me evil thoughts
I’m the dream catcher but nothing but nightmares I caught
Go to sleep
I wear green hats because I’m fortunately lucky
“Fuck me” the monster said, somehow 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 either
A fucking sin or too illegal
Play this shit at church
I graduated without honors or fucking father
He died (I’m so sorry), no bitch, don’t even fucking 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 fucking situation
That’s having our brains racing like Dayton
Wearing some fucking Heelies
I know you fucking feel me, I want to fucking kill me
But times I’m so serious you think I’m silly
I’m doing Big Style Willy couldn’t touch 11, seven
What’s religion? Nigga, I am Legend
I roll with skaters and musicians with an intuition
I created O.F. ’cause I feel we’re more talented
Than forty year old rappers talking ’bout Gucci
When they have kids they haven’t seen in years
Impressing their peers
With the same problem, the only way to solve ’em
Is to go to Father’s Day convention with a gold revolver
Life’s a salad I’ma toss it eat this shit up, Rick Ross it
Shit it out, bag it up sell it, I’m so damn rebellious
‘Cause my mother let me do what I want
She wasn’t careless, protective she is the bear
This shit is so bare, my diary isn’t hid
My father didn’t give a fuck, so it’s something I inherit
My momma’s all I have so it’s never meet the parents
When Danielle or Milan decide to fucking share
This confused boy, I wanna hug, oy
I’m bad for your kids to listen to
Soy is not the choice, I’m bad milk, drink it
Whoa, umm, it seems you had a lot to say
Uh, I mean as I’m-, as I’m evaluating
My wrist is all red from the cutter
Dripping cold blood like the winter, the summer
Is never that’s equivalent to me and Sarah
Well that’s not her fucking name, but I think the shit is clever
My niggas wanna know if I’m fucking, if I’m kissing
But I’m sitting here downing beers simply just wishing
With a tear they try to tell me but I never listen
‘Cause I don’t give a shit like sitting down pissing
Eighteen, still talking 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 mom’ll attend the
Ceremony with all my homies, I’m suicidal
This my Zombie Circus, I hope the majors heard this
Fuck a deal, I just want my father’s email
So I can tell him how much I fucking hate him in detail
Wow, umm
So Tyler if, uh
If you had the chance to tell him something
What would you tell him?
Peering into the raw narrative of Tyler the Creator’s track ‘Bastard,’ we’re confronted with a labyrinth of emotion, complexity, and stark honesty that defies the conventions of hip-hop storytelling. Within these bars lies a young artist grappling with absent fatherhood, mental health, and the quest for authenticity amidst a sea of perceived superficiality in the music industry.
Fundamental to the enigmatic appeal of ‘Bastard’ is its unapologetic introspection, a hallmark of Tyler’s early work with Odd Future. The song doesn’t just scratch the surface of parental neglect and personal demons; it plunges headfirst into the abyss, offering up a portrait of an artist as a young man, unvarnished and uncensored.
The Saga of a Fatherless Prodigy
The opening lines of ‘Bastard’ aren’t just a vitriolic disavowal of hip-hop blogosphere gatekeepers; they are a declaration of war against a world that fails to acknowledge or understand his creative acumen. Tyler delineates the void left by an absent father through lyrical demonization, casting himself as ‘Satan’s son,’ an embodiment of the rebellious spirit that propels his artistry.
This paternal ghost haunts the entire track, with Tyler oscillating between resentment and a deep-seated yearning for a relationship that will never materialize. The resulting emotional cocktail is a potent mix of confusion, anger, and a desperate search for a sense of identity in the face of abandonment. It is here, in the raw space of absence, that Tyler finds his voice.
Deconstructing Adolescence and Mental Turmoil
As the track unfolds, Tyler sheds the bravado that permeates much of hip-hop, revealing instead the vulnerabilities of a troubled adolescence. He seizes on school experiences, substance avoidance, and familial tensions as both cause and symptom of the psychological malaise that dogs his psyche.
References to self-harm and suicidal ideation elevate the song beyond typical teenage angst, signaling a profound struggle with mental health. These are not throwaway lines but confessions etched in the grooves of the track, each lyric a breadcrumb on the path to understanding Tyler’s complicated interior world.
The Hidden Meaning: Tyler’s Own Inferno
Beneath the surface bravado and irreverence lies a hidden meaning, akin to Dante’s descent into the circles of hell. Each verse peels back a layer of Tyler’s personal inferno, where the demons are not mythological but all too human: neglect, insecurity, and the specter of a father figure more phantom than flesh.
It’s a psychological thriller set to music, with Tyler playing every role, from the aggrieved son to the defiant artist thumbing his nose at societal expectations. The rawness is deliberate, forcing the listener to confront the uncomfortable realities often sanitized from our narratives about youth and success.
Memorable Lines: A Distillation of Pain and Prowess
The knockout blows of ‘Bastard’ are delivered through lines that remain etched in memory long after the song ends. ‘My father’s dead well I don’t know, we’ll never fucking meet,’ Tyler raps, capturing in a handful of words the weight of growing up without a dad. The lyric ‘Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed’ is not just a nod to religious motifs, but a cry for help, acknowledgement, and salvation.
These aren’t just clever rhymes; they’re the distilled essence of Tyler’s reality, hammering home the pervasive sense of abandonment and rage that fuels so much of his creative output, underpinned by a defiant hope that recognition, even in darkness, is the first step toward catharsis.
Legacy of ‘Bastard’: The Genesis of a Generational Voice
Years on from its initial shockwave, ‘Bastard’ stands as a cornerstone in Tyler the Creator’s ascendant career. It’s a track that laid bare his gift for storytelling and marked him as a generational voice unafraid to traverse the darker corridors of the human experience.
In an era where vulnerability in hip-hop is no longer taboo but treasured, ‘Bastard’ is a raw, unpolished gem that continues to resonate with those who find solace in the honesty of its lyrics. It remains, in many ways, a prologue to the more nuanced narratives Tyler would go on to craft, a promise of the fearless expression that is now his signature.
