Lyrics Mause: An American Tale - Mickey Factz

Mause: An American Tale

MauSe.
New decade, hoping the 90s pop
Listening to Aerosmith, Meat Loaf, 90s rock
Q-Tip and drivers hot, going to the vinyl shop
Parties at the Mud Club, buckets full of private stock
Passport got paint marks stamped in 8 parts, auctioneers raising their hands
asking what frames cost
Just left Spain with dames the plane take off, had her more naked for days now
that’s great art, simple
Wiped off my smock with some tissue, phone call issues trying to dial out to
Bristol
Blek le rat waiting for MauSe it’s official, looking out the jet window waiting
for the intro
Das EFX playing in my discman, stepped off the cessna looking like a rich man
5 years ago I was sleeping on the bench man, sort of like a 6th man
Now I’m in London with a big plan
Andy just passed I’m trying to do collabs
So the MauSe and the rat working together is rad
Been scratching on my skin so my body had a rash
I ignored it, even though I knew shit was bad
Sat down with Blek, he was already great
Told a story with the paint, it was sort of like fate
Had the Jordans kind of late because I bought em at a rate that was cheap
But my man said he holding me some 8s, and I just got the 7s, and the 9−1
Used the stencil like a gun, never ended out run
Before I got done, Blek told me about a kid
Who was just coming up, he was something like a wiz
He was running around London showing people what he did
Nobody knew his name he was hiding from the fame
Blek said he needed guidance so I’m trying to giving him game
Question MauSe inspired, it was fire to the flame
Turned to a mentor, that’s what a friends for
Gave him my beeper number, knowing that it meant more
Got to America, started having sex more
Supersonic jersey, same one Shawn Kemp wore
Valentines day, 9−2, cuticle chewing, Keith was was hospitalized according to
Julie Gruen
I knew he had AIDS, that shit could ruin a human
I was crying uncontrollably at the funeral viewing
Spots on my body popping up at of nowhere
Still ducking my doctor I’m not trying to go there
Treating everyday like I don’t care, no fear
Finally showed up to the doctors office with no hair, weaken
Acrylic on my hand was distinguished
Had trouble breathing with a scalp full of lesions
Cup full of alcohol, house full of demons
Nose full of cocaine, couch full of divas
Stepping on canvases, covered up the marks on my body with my bandages,
indulging in cannabis
Medics knew me by my first name in the ambulance
Thinking about suicide, far away from happiness
Bald headed, no beard counting euros
Temporarily artist still churning out murals
Painting questions marks in colors that looked floral
Questioning societies morals, pill popping, still rocking this would work for
Phil Collins
Skills sharpened, had my face on the milk carton
Beeper went off, it was from that kid Robin
I’ma leave my legacy around him
MauSe…