Mickey Factz
Mickey Factz - The Arts (avant Garde) songtekst
Je score:
Mouse painting on the ceiling, drips on the floor In a [?] building my life meant more Had an auction out in Paris [?] A million for the canvas, he put it in his palace Bronx kid cut school never seen the campus But I spoke to the masses in all of the art classes Different pairs of glasses that I always have to try on My converse had dye on and dried on Put my levi's on marked with crye on rozes for John Lennon, me and my friends cried on I call the right songs, I call the boys We took Polaroids with photo toys, overjoy. Till the clones go home, they will not avoid Kids follow my slick models, pictures of thin models Central Park lunch was McDonalds Big Mac's brought fifty straws and [?] bottles Coca-Cola logos in term for Andy Used to get 'em chalk and [?] from Sammy. We was the small family, gave me a vice when I was ancy Later on, used to call him granny Inanimate objects made accurate concepts Pops kick me out, so I abandoned the projects Trainyard bommin' all day [?] spray [?] to see wild styles upon broadway Slept next to bums ink on my fingers The [?] used to linger, a little more of paper got a mink for my diva I think like a dreamer, fact that we're living, I silkscreen Mona Lisa. The arts! I write words, and ciphers, and night curbs They call me mouse, the mice hurt, my life burn A bright nerd who like girls with nice curves Love Magic Johnson. Warhol? he like Burke. Cover in New Yorker, article in The Times Exhibit at the [?] drawn out of design. Big daddy can't have fame I left train, started flying over seas, I was bommin' on the planes Keith Haring will be proud on me I took the Martin King photo drew a question on the balcony Paint marks on my [?] I was art-fresh boombox radio Red alert, he was all next, oh yes I'm from the Era where we saw Vietnam vets [?] ain't even buy his bombs yet And copper paintin for your liter [?] wall specs They sit in front of elbows and [?] I used to not have a cannerpie But I just paid [?] for a gallery and a cannerpie Now would you call that vanity? Moment of clarity, glitter on top of women's anatomy Question marks on top of their breasts, and put the Mause on top of a tit, shit! Nigga, I'm flying, I'm on top of my shit, no! I'm flying, I'm on top of my shit! From 83 to 89 I made it mine A spray of sign in a dark alley that make you shine [?] dark shades, I pray the God Contemporary I'm Van Gogh, a crazy drive Crack pipes in the streets was like flower beds [?] showerheads for cope [?] Homies who got felonies applaud me Come on soon, I'm telling you my story Mause!