The King’s Minimum Wage

[Verse 1] Your spotlight is flick'rin, the glitter is gone, The King is a quitter, a bitter old pawn. CHAMPIONS of the crash, experts at the pose, Twenty-four seasons, older than iPhones. You traded Paul George for a fossil on ice, Now pay for the circus—colossalest price. [Chorus] No Conference Final since two-thousand-one, The King is just hiding when Philly is done. Four million dollars, a discount on pride, Nowhere for Lakers to run or to hide. [Instrumental break] [Verse 2] Fifty-two million to minimum pay, He ditched the gold jersey to rot in PA. LEGENDS of decay and huntin' for ghosts, Forty-one years of these blunderous roasts. Second round exits, it's easy to see, The King found a kingdom of pure misery. [Chorus] No Conference Final since two-thousand-one, The King is just hiding when Philly is done. Four million dollars, a discount on pride, Nowhere for Lakers to run or to hide. [Outro] Enjoy the retirement, the circus is done, You're starin' at zero, while we're number one.