Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tyler, The Creator
Vocals
Brighter Side of Darkness
Sampled Artist
DJ Drama
Announcer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tyler Okonma
Songwriter
Lucille S. White
Songwriter
Franchone L. Shells
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tyler, The Creator
Producer
Vic Wainstein
Recording Engineer
Jeremy Dilli
Assistant Engineer
Neal Pogue
Mixing Engineer
Zachary Acosta
Assistant Engineer
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Pardon me, excusez-moi (I'm sorry)
Yeah, I coulda made a better choice, I mean, what the fuck?
I'm sorry, I'm fucking 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 'bout 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 space, 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
****-****-****, read the room, don't assume **** 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, sorry you think I'm pathetic
Sorry I don't wanna bro down, sorry I don't know your pronouns
I don't mean no disrespect, but, damn, we just met, calm the fuck down
Oh, I'm out of touch and I'm a jerk?
A bank account could never match my worth (That **** gettin' money, he a dick now)
Sorry, Mother Earth, polluted air with chemicals and dirt
These cars ain't gonna buy and drive themselves
What the hell 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 know I'm supposed to fight (I know) (I'm sorry)
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
****, fuck the price, spend it then, then again, I can't save ****
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 shit and I could back it up with confidence, it get you **** trippin', man
Fuck the numbers, fuck 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, let me see you make a decision I made (Y'all not gon' do it)
And claim that I don't know about minimum wage or Section 8
Water in the ketchup bottle to stretch when **** ate
Gettin' pressed by **** hoppin' gates
Thinkin' it's normal 'cause you ain't supposed to make it past eighteen or escape the Figure 8 cycle
And I promise this is like a diet, I'ma make a way and I did, did
Feel good, work paid off, now we gon' celebrate
But **** 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, fuck 'em
Okay, cool
And like that
We really mean it this time
I guarantee another era is upon us
So once again, we gone
Written by: Franchone L. Shells, Lucille S. White, Tyler Okonma