Смысл текста песни "Deathcamp" исполнителя "Tyler, the Creator"

Um, excuse me, mister but can you, please, turn down the lights?

I don't really like all these cameras, man!

And this shit just don't feel right.

And I don't really wanna be rude to you, sir,

But fuck you mean I can't wear my hat in here?

And you got me fucked up, if you think I care, nga!

I hope you little ngas is listenin',

Them Golf Boys is in this bitch like an infant,

The blind ngas used to make fun of my vision,

And now I pay a mortgage and they stuck with tuition.

So special, the teacher asked if I was autistic,

And now I'm makin' plates, you just washin' the dishes,

So if you don't mind, get the fuck out of my kitchen!

But keep your ego here so I can butt fuck your opinion.

But in the meantime brainwashin' millions of minions,

Leader of the new school? Ha, I'm in my own school!

And you would never catch me in none of their fuckin' shindigs,

I hope you fuckin' ngas is angry, pissed, and offended!

In Search of... did more for me than Illmatic,

That's when I realized we ain't cut from the same fabric,

I made my own shit, you went out and bought yours,

Man, I got too much drive, mothafucka, I hate traffic!

La-di-da-di, I'm goin' harder than coming out the closet to conservative Christian fathers,

When it's a lot at stake, carne asada, let's be honest, I'm really morphin'

Named the album Cherry Bomb because Greatest Hits sounded boring,

I don't like to follow the rules, she said that I must.

I don't have any armpits,

She wanted to talk who's in charge of this Golf shit,

I said, "Howdy do? How are you? I'm the sergeant".

And who I are isn't really important,

My heart is as dark as a window with car tint,

So hop in with your friends, gal, and I'll unpark it,

And I'll do donuts until the fat one is carsick.

It's young T.

I don't like to follow the rules

And that's just who I am,

I hope you understand.

And I don't really think y'all cool,

So give yourself a hand,

No, no, give yourself a hand,

Better pose for that camera,

Better pose, boy, you better pose,

And it's your life, nga, I suppose.

For the lights, for the camera and the action,

Now you're face is meltin' from the flash of the big ol' lights,

Nga, you ask for this life.

Welcome to death camp.

Yeah, welcome to death camp.

Yeah, welcome to death camp.

Kissin' on my bean bag,

Your lips high-five my tongue,

Fingers moonwalk through your hair.

For the lights, and the camera, and the action.

This is fun, I can tell,

I don't know if you'll handle it well,

Welcome to hell camp.

Lights, and the camera, and the action.

You should be mine in a way tonight.

For the lights, and the camera, and the action.