Picasso Baby

Album: Magna Carta... Holy Grail (2013)
Charted: 91
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  • I just want a Picasso, in my casa
    No, my castle
    I'm a hassa, no I'm a asshole
    I'm never satisfied, can't knock my hustle
    I wanna Rothko, no I wanna brothel
    No, I want a wife that fuck me like a prostitute
    Let's make love on a million, in a dirty hotel
    With the fan on the ceiling, all for the love of drug dealing
    Marble Floors, gold Ceilings
    Oh what a feeling, fuck it I want a billion
    Jeff Koons balloons, I just wanna blow up
    Condos in my condos, I wanna row of
    Christie's with my missy, live at the MoMA
    Bacons and turkey bacons, smell the aroma

    Oh what a feeling
    Picasso Baby, Ca Picasso baby
    Ca ca Picasso Baby, Ca ca Picasso baby
    Oh what a feeling
    Picasso Baby, Ca Picasso baby
    Ca ca Picasso Baby, Ca ca Picasso baby

    It ain't hard to tell
    I'm the new Jean Michel
    Surrounded by Warhols
    My whole team ball
    Twin Bugattis outside the Art Basel
    I just wanna live life colossal
    Leonardo Da Vinci flows
    Riccardo Tisci Givenchy clothes
    See me throning at the Met
    Vogueing on these niggas
    Champagne on my breath, yes
    House like the Louvre or the Tate Modern
    Because I be going ape at the auction
    Oh what a feeling
    Aw fuck it I want a trillion
    Sleeping every night next to Mona Lisa
    The modern day version
    With better features
    Yellow Basquiat in my kitchen corner
    Go ahead lean on that shit Blue
    You own it

    Oh what a feeling
    Picasso Baby, Ca Picasso baby
    Ca ca Picasso Baby, Ca ca Picasso baby
    Oh what a feeling
    Picasso Baby, Ca Picasso baby
    Ca ca Picasso Baby, Ca ca Picasso baby

    I never stuck my cock in the fox's box but
    Damned if I ain't open Pandora's box
    They try to slander your man
    On CNN and Fox
    My Mirandas don't stand a chance, with cops
    Even my old fans like old man just stop
    I could if I would but I can't
    I'm hot, and you blow
    I'm still the man to watch, Hublot
    On my left hand or not
    Soon I step out the booth
    The cameras pops niggas is cool with it
    Till the canons pop
    Now my hand on the Bible
    On the stand got your man in a jam, again
    Got my hands in cuff
    I'm like god damn enough
    I put down the cans and they ran amok
    My hairpin pierce skin, ruptures spleens
    Cracks ribs, go through cribs, and other things
    No sympathy for the king, huh?
    Niggas even talk about your baby crazy
    Eventually the pendulum swings
    Don't forget America this how you made me
    Come through with the 'Ye mask on
    Spray everything like SAMO
    I won't scratch the Lambo
    What's it gon take
    For me to go
    For you to see
    I'm the modern day Pablo
    Picasso baby Writer/s: ADRIAN YOUNGE, CHRIS GODBEY, GARLAND WAVERLY MOSLEY, JEROME HARMON, SHAWN C CARTER, TIMOTHY Z. MOSLEY, TOMMASO COLLIVA
    Publisher: Anthem Entertainment, BMG Rights Management, Exploration Group LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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