sorry not sorry - tyler, the creator lyrics
pardon me, excusez*moi (i’m sorry)
yeah, i coulda made a better choice, i mean, what the f*ck?
i’m sorry, i’m f*cking sorry
yeah
i’m sorry, i’m sorry i don’t see you more
i’m sorry that the four minutes where you see your son could feel like a chore
sis’, i’m sorry i’m your kin
sorry we ain’t close as we should’ve been
sorry to my old friends
the stories we coulda wrote if our egos didn’t take the pen
sorry to the freaks i led on (nah, for real, i’m sorry)
who thought their life was gonna change ’cause i gave ’em head on
but instead, i sped off, yeah, i know i’m dead wrong
sorry to the guys i had to hide (ooh)
sorry to the girls i had to lie to who ain’t need to know if i was by the lake switchin’ tides, too (tides)
anyway, i don’t wanna talk (ooh)
sorry if you gotta dig for info i don’t wanna give
so you stalk, make up fibs, just to talk about my private life ’cause you’re weird (uh)
met that girl this year (but), that’s none ya biz
give enough with my art, know your place
my personal sp*ce, y’all don’t need to to be a part
i’m sorry i don’t wanna link and small talk over dinner
i don’t even drink, can’t guilt trip me, i’m ice cold, roller rink
n*gga*n*gga*n*gga, read the room
don’t assume n*ggas is cool
stay in your pocket, this is pool
blah, blah, blah, blah ’bout trauma
you ain’t special, everybody got problems, uh
sorry i’m not empathetic (nah, i’m f*ckin’), sorry you think i’m pathetic
sorry i don’t wanna bro down, sorry i don’t know your pr*nouns
i don’t mean no disrespect, but, d*mn, we just met, calm the f*ck down
oh, i’m out of touch and i’m a jerk? a bank account could never match my worth (that n*gga gettin’ money, he a d*ck now)
sorry mother earth, polluted air with chemicals and dirt
these cars ain’t gonna buy and drive themselves
what the h*ll you think i work for? not to not explore and stay the same (i’m)
sorry to the fans who say i changed, ’cause i did
sorry you don’t know me on a personal level to pinpoint what it is
i’m sorry to my ancestors (i’m so sorry), i know i’m supposed to fight (i know)
but this ice shinin’ brighter than a black man’s plight, i’ma make it right
in the meantime, i’ll give some advice while these blood diamonds gettin’ cleaned off
n*gga, f*ck the price, spend it then, then again, i can’t save n*ggas
i’m not superman, but i could try
i’m sorry i’m pretentious
sorry that the talent, knowledge, passion isn’t missin’
sorry when i talk my sh*t and i could back it up with confidence, it get you n*ggas trippin’, man
f*ck the numbers, f*ck a hook
you put me on a stage and i’ll show you the difference
let me see y’all hit a stage (no, y’all can’t do it)
let me see y’all write a page (y’all not gon’ do it)
let me see you make a decision i made
and claim that i don’t know about minimum wage or section 8, water in the ketchup bottle to stretch when n*ggas ate
gettin’ pressed by n*ggas hoppin’ gates
thinkin’ it’s normal ’cause you ain’t supposed to make it past 18 or escape the figure 8 cycle
and i promise this is like a diet, i’ma make a way and i did, did
sh*t feel good, work paid off, now we gon’ celebrate
but n*ggas claim you arrogant when they can’t relate to moments of feelin’ great
so they aim, duck*duck*duck ’em
shot right back, buck*buck*buck ’em
sorry, not sorry (buck ’em, buck ’em)
i got two words, f*ck ’em
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