Looking for the lyrics of “Sucka Free” by Tyler, The Creator? You are at the right place. Tyler, The Creator, the 34-year-old rapper and singer from Hawthorne, California, delivers a bold and addictive track with “Sugar On My Tongue” from his ninth studio album, Don’t Tap the Glass, released on Monday, July 21, 2025, via Columbia Records. The song is filled with such energy as Tyler talks about chasing papers (money), takes pride in his roots (East Side Hawthorne), and shows that he is “that guy”—sucker-free and focused. The lyrics have a mix of street credibility, bold attitude, and a bit of fun that reflect his unapologetic vibe along with a “mind your business” message. This track takes us to a world where hard work and swagger rule, and Tyler motivates his fans to keep their game strong too.
Whether you’re vibing out solo or sharing music with friends, this one’s a standout. The flow is tight, the message is clear, and Tyler makes sure you feel every bar. Scroll down for Sucka Free lyrics by Tyler, The Creator below and experience her passion for music.
Lyrics of Sucka Free by Tyler, The Creator
[Chorus]
I’m That Guy, Tryna Get My Paper, Baby
I’m That Guy For Real (Ha, Ha, Ah)
I’m That Guy, Tryna Get My Paper, Baby (Ha, Ha, Ah)
I’m That Guy For Real (Ha, Ha, Ah)
[Verse 1]
Yeah, Ayy, Shitty Backup (Ayy), Got My Racks Up (Ayy, Bro)
Baby Blue Beamer, Watch It Back Up
Got My Jewels On, Sure I’m Strapped Up
We Don’t Know You, Nigga, Back Up, Uh-huh
Pockets Full Of Chili Like It’s Hot Sauce (Uh-huh)
Niggas Actin’ Silly, Just The Pop Off
Hop Off My Dick, There’s Some Hoes In Here
Odd Future, Wolf Gang, All The Bros In Here
You Niggas Bums, You Never Really Figured It Out (Huh)
You The Type To Let A Bitch Wear A Shoe In Your House (Ha)
You The Type To Buy A Chain Before Some Furniture, Couch
And You The Type Of Nigga Never Had A Fist Hit Your Mouth (Bink-bink-bink, Huh)
You Ain’t Got No Guap, No Paper, Ain’t No Ink
See, I’m That Guy, Give A Fuck What You Think (Nigga)
So Please, Keep That Weirdo Shit From Me
I’m Just Stackin’ Up My Cheese Tryna Stay Sucker-free
[Chorus]
I’m That Guy, Tryna Get My Paper, Baby (Ha, Ha, Ah)
I’m That Guy, For Real (Ha, Ha, Ah)
I’m That Guy Tryna Get My Paper, Baby (Ha, Ha, Ah)
I’m That Guy, For Real (Ha, Ha, Ah)
[Post-Chorus]
I’m Stackin’ My Ones On A Tuesday, I’m Gettin’ That Paper
I’m Stackin’ My Ones On A Weekend, I’m Gettin’ That Paper
[Verse 2]
All The Bums To The Back, Bitch, I’m Dumb To The Max
I’m Him, I’m That Guy, Run And Tell That
All That Street Talk Corny, Y’all Rats
“Bro, You Are A Good Man,” What You Know About That, Nigga?
It’s Weird And That’s On My Mommy, Hoes Tell, We Don’t Need No Lobby (Ha, Ha, Ha)
We The Extras, Ain’t Need No Hobby (Ha, Ha, Ha)
Drop The Top, I’m Never Sloppy (Ha, Ha, Ha)
Keep A Thumper, Brodie, Can You Please Hop Off My Bumper, Nigga? (Ah)
[Chorus]
I’m That Guy Tryna Get My Paper (Niggas Weird, Bro), Baby
I’m That Guy, For Real (Ha, Ha, Ah)
I’m That Guy Tryna Get My Paper, Baby (Ha, Ha, Ah)
I’m That Guy, For Real (Ha, Ha, Ah), Ayy
[Post-Chorus]
I’m Stackin’ My Ones On A Tuesday, I’m Gettin’ That Paper
I’m Stackin’ My Ones On A Weekend (Yeah),
I’m Gettin’ That Paper (What Y’all Niggas On, Bro?)
I’m Stackin’ My Ones On A Tuesday, I’m Gettin’ That Paper
I’m Stackin’ My Ones On A Weekend, I’m Gettin’ That Paper
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