Mause: An American Tale - Mickey Factz

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…