Lyrics The Arts (Avant Garde) - Mickey Factz

The Arts (Avant Garde)

MauSe Painting on the ceiling
Drips on the floor
In the Met life building
My life met more
Had an Auction out in Paris
Highest bidder yelled out
«A million for the canvas!»
He put it in his palace
Bronx kid cut school never seen a campus
But I spoke to the masses in all the art classes
Different pairs of glasses that I always had to try on
My Converse had dye on, that dried on
Put my Levi’s on, marked with Kryon
Roses for john Lennon, me and my friends cried on
Icons that write songs, I call em poised
We took Polaroids, with photo toys, overjoyed
Told the clones go home they were null & void
Kids followed my slick motto’s
Pictures of thin models, central park lunch was McDonald’s
Big Mac’s a buck 50, straws in thin bottles
Coca Cola logo’s, interned for Andy
Used to get him chalk in Bensonhurst from Sammie
We was a small family
Gave me advice, when I was antsy
Later on used to call em granny
Inanimate objects, made accurate concepts
Pops kicked me out so I abandoned the projects
Train yard bombing, all day, gloss spray
Snuck to see Wild Style up on Broadway
Slept next to bums, ink of my fingers
The stink used to linger
A lil more paper got a mink for my diva
I think like a dreamer
Factory living, I silk screened Mona Lisa
The Arts!!!
I write words, in ciphers on night curbs
They call me MauSe, the mice heard my life burned
A bright nerd who liked girls with nice curves
Loved magic johnson, Warhol?
He liked bird
Cover of New Yorker, article in The Times
Exhibit at the Met, drawing out a design
Big Daddy Kane had fame, I left trains
Started flying overseas, I was bombing on the planes
Keith Haring would be proud of me
I Took the martin king photo, drew a question on the balcony
Paint marks on my gear I was art fresh
Boom box radio, red alert he was on next
Aww yes
I’m from an era where we saw Vietnam vets
& Funk Flex ain’t even buy his bombs yet
Cop a painting for your living room wall specs
Then sit in front of it, elbows on arm rests
I used to not have a can to pee
But I just painted vanity, for a gallery in a canopy
Now would you call that vanity?
Moment of clarity
Glitter on top of women’s anatomy
With Question marks on the top of they breasts
Then put the MauSe on top of her tit, shit!
Nicca I’m fly I’m on top of my shit
No… I’m fly on top of my shit…
From 83 to 89 I made it mine
& Spray my sign in a dark alley to make it shine
Full beard, dark shades, I pray to god
Contemporary, I’m Van Gogh with crazy drive
Crack pipes in the streets was like flower beds
Fiends sold they shower heads for coke powder kid
Homies who got felony’s applaud me
Coming soon, I’m telling you my story
MauSe