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artist of the century (tiny desk version) - mike lyrics

[intro]
(what the h*lly bron james)

[verse: mike]
you gotta be, i mean, probably above me
proud of me, workin’ ‘gainst the odds and the ugly
it’s comedy, the hurtin’ be disguised as a subtweet
a prodigy workin’ out the five, not a sublease
bottom feed, growin’ out of poverty is toughenin’
monogamy, it was only pottery i f*cked with
coddled me, nowadays, it’s honestly a dungeon
it boggle me, turned another opp into a custy
apologies, tryna free the colony like tubman
debauchery, never seen this side of me in public (what the h*ll—)
bottle fiеnd, i don’t wait ’til halloween for ruckus
it’s time to eat, gave ‘еm all that modesty for nothin’
the collard greens replacin’ all the college dreams i fronted
prophecies, they favor the facades, i debunk it
props to the puppets, shots for the huntress
for guapanese, play you on the spot like a—
my partner t took me on the job as a youngin
propped like a pumpkin, shocked was redundant
i plotted cheese, but really needed god in abundance
my mind full of f*ck sh*t, eyes on the hundreds

[chorus: mike, duendita & liv.e]
i could put it on my life (ooh)
nah, gotta put it on my life if i want it, uh
i been puttin’ up with strife since a youngin
the prize isn’t much, but the price is a—, uh (ooh)
i gotta put it on my life if i want it, uh
i been puttin’ up with strife since a youngin
the prize isn’t much, but the price is way too much (ooh)

- mike lyrics

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