Tron Cat by Tyler the Creator Lyrics Meaning – Unlocking the Enigma Behind the Controversial Track


You can view the lyrics, alternate interprations and sheet music for Tyler the Creator's Tron Cat at Lyrics.org.
Article Contents:
  1. Music Video
  2. Lyrics
  3. Song Meaning

Lyrics

Satan’s getting jealous of the wolves, the demons say they preferring us
Books on not giving a fuck is what they’re referring us (Wolf Gang)
Wolves, I know you heard of us, we’re murderous
And young enough to get the fucking priest to come and flirt with us
You niggas rap about fucking bitches and getting head
Instead I rap about fucking bitches and getting heads
While you niggas stacking bread, I can stack a couple dead
Bodies, making red look less of a color, more of a hobby
I’m not a rapper nor a rapist nor a racist
I fuck bitches with no permission and tend to hate shit
Brag about the actions in a rhyming pattern matter
Then proceed to sat her down when I go splatter in her chatterbox
Atta boy, Odd Future, you’re not in our category
Torture with the super soaker at the Asian liquor store
This the type of shit that make a Chris Brown want to kick a whore
That make songs about the wet blockers when it rains and pours
(Umbrella) I hate this, screaming fuck patience
Got a nigga shaking like the calmest fucking Haitian
After chronic masturbation, asking where Mary-Kate went
I want to be the reasons why all lesbians hate dick
I make this damn Bullwinkle the red moose
Game of duck-duck-duck tape with a dead goose
She running ’round this motherfucking dungeon, her legs loose
Until I accidentally get the saw to her head, oops

Victim, victim, honey, you’re my fifth one
Honey on that topping when I stuff you in my system
Rape a pregnant bitch and tell my friends I had a threesome
You got a fucking death wish? I’m a genie, it’ll get done
Nice to meet you, but it’s more pleasant to eat you
With a leaf of salad and some dressing pouring out a teacup
Bitch, I’m Tyler the Creature, suck your feet up like a beach of leeches
Rubber more than the fucking bottom of a sneaker
Jeeper the fucking creeper, get your daughter and keep her
In the jeeps where the Wolf Gang rides around deeper
Take her to Ladera, now she’s scared and you’re embarrassed
Filled with terror, chop her legs off and tell her to run some errands
Put her eyes in a canteen, take her to the Berrics
Stare at Steve, say it costs ten to fuck Eric
Put her in the lake, her body sinks great, now it’s time to fish her like Derek
Satan says we’re dangerous, we’re trading kids for angel dust
And snuff and sniff, and now that Michael Jackson’s trying to suck our dick
Hippopot the fucking llamas, dead bodies, cheerleading squaders
Gave the team a bunch of fucking bees and the Keke Palmer
They will never catch him or catch up
They asked me what it was, I told them fuckers it was ketchup
Nutty like my Chex mix, she bleeding from her rectum
Odd Future wolves stirring ruckus, throwing sets up, yep

This the type of shit that make children break in apartments
When you tell a fucking orphan you don’t love them ’til they heart thin
(I hate you!) Starve her ’til I carve her then I shove her in the Rover
Where I cut her like a barber with a Parkinson’s disorder
Store her in a portable freezer with me to Portland
Catch me with a bunch of fucking Mexicans crossing the border
I’ll be the only wetback who ain’t really touched the water
Cause I’ll be too fucking busy tryna flirt with Jesus’ daughter
(Fuck Mary) I’m awesome, and I fuck dolphins
Sicker than the starving Nigerian kids barfing
Odd Future Wolf Gang Nazi bar mitzvah
With your sister at the bar playing leg and arm twister
Evident that I’m the shit, I’m the Pooh like Tigger dick
I got these cracker doctors saying, “yeah Bob, this nigger’s sick”
Animal safari, if I offend you I’m sorry
Because I’m the blackest skinhead since India Arie
I don’t smoke weed, so no need for the matches
I said fuck coke and now I’m snorting Hitler’s ashes
I plan on either dying for suicide or my asthma
Being the only bastard in a box logo casket
Rashes on my dick from licks of shishkabob Sagets
In some Kanye West glasses screaming out “fuck faggots”
Catch me in my attic taking photos of my dad’s dick
Drop the beat here to make it extra climactic

What the fuck?
I’m speechless, that was, fuck
Shit, Tyler, you’re gonna need some help
I’m not a.. fuck it, different subject
How’s that girl you were telling me about?

Full Lyrics

In the pantheon of hip-hop tracks that shock and provoke, Tyler the Creator’s ‘Tron Cat’ stands out as a perplexing and jarring masterpiece. The song, layered with dense wordplay and vivid, often violent imagery, has left fans and critics alike dissecting its meaning since its release.

Stripped away from its abrasive surface, ‘Tron Cat’ is a labyrinthine composition beckoning the listener to explore its depths. It dives into themes of rebellion, societal norms, mental health, and the artist’s struggle with fame and personal demons. Moreover, it accentuates the paradox of Tyler, the Creator’s public persona – a mix of horrorcore braggadocio and introspective vulnerability.

A Symphony of Shock: Decoding Tyler’s Daring Delivery

Tyler, the Creator’s vocal delivery in ‘Tron Cat’ is akin to an artist flinging bold splashes of paint onto a canvas. The lyrics are delivered with a ferocity that demands attention, forcing one to contend with the underlying meanings couched within the relentless barrage of shocking statements.

The contentious lines are not merely for shock value; they serve as a mirror reflecting societal taboos, repulsions, and the shadows that we often choose to look away from. The provocation in Tyler’s delivery becomes a tool, picking at the listener’s comfort and sparking conversation about the often unspoken.

Fiendish Imagery: A Window to Inner Turmoil?

Throughout ‘Tron Cat,’ Tyler employs macabre and sinister metaphors which could be interpreted as a window into his psyche. The graphic representations of violence and misogyny could be seen as a satirical commentary on rap culture, or a deeper exposition of his battles with fame and its accompanying demons.

The splattering of gory details might represent Tyler’s way of dealing with pressures – external and internal – that come with his artistic pursuit. There’s an ongoing battle being sketched between the artist’s darker instincts and the societal expectation of censorship and moral conduct.

The Hidden Message Behind the Mayhem

Peek beyond the abrasive exterior of ‘Tron Cat,’ and it’s possible to uncover a subtler meaning. It’s an anthem of dissent against being pigeonholed or sanitized, a creative insistence on authenticity at the cost of controversy.

In a culture increasingly sanitized and made palatable for mass consumption, Tyler’s lyrics could be his way of preserving the raw, uncut ethos of early hip-hop culture. What may initially surface as repugnant is on closer inspection a layered, protective sheath over the core principle of hip-hop: to provoke and reflect the unvarnished truths of life.

Memorable Lines that Challenge and Confront

‘Rape a pregnant bitch and tell my friends I had a threesome,’ stands out as perhaps the most shocking line of ‘Tron Cat,’ and it serves as a deliberate provocation. It ties back to the horrorcore genre where artistic expression is purposefully hyperbolic, intended to shock the listener out of complacency.

In an era where much of mainstream rap oscillates between materialism and safe, radio-friendly sounds, Tyler’s willingness to employ such jarring lines is indicative of his commitment to challenging the status quo and pushing listeners to confront the darker sides of narrative art.

A Reflection of Our Own Reactions

Ultimately, ‘Tron Cat’ might say more about the listener than Tyler, the Creator himself. Our reactions to his provocative lyrics hold up a mirror to our own limits of comfort and the societal norms we uphold.

Is the song an earnest, if extreme, representation of the artist’s worldview? Or is it an exaggerated performance piece designed to dissect the audience’s tolerance for transgressive art? ‘Tron Cat’ leaves these questions open, engaging the audience in a complex dance of introspection and reflection.

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