Текст песни Picasso Baby, Jay Z

I just want a Picasso
In my casa,
No, my castle.
I'm a hassa,
No, I'm an 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 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!

[Chorus: 2x]
Oh, what a feeling!
Picasso baby.
Ca Picasso baby.
Ca ca ca Picasso baby.
Ca ca ca Picasso baby.
Oh, what a feeling!

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 thrown at the Met,
Vogue'ing 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.

[Chorus: 2x]
Oh, what a feeling!
Picasso baby.
Ca Picasso baby.
Ca ca ca Picasso baby.
Ca ca ca Picasso baby.
Oh, what a feeling!

I never stuck my cock in the fox's box but
Damned if I didn't open Pandora's box,
They try to slander your man
On CNN and Fox,
My Miranda 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, “Goddamn enough!”
I put down the cans,
And they ran amok,
My hairpin
Pierce skin, ruptures spleens,
Cracks rips 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,
Though I won't scratch the Lambo.
What's it gonna to take
For me to go
For y'all to see,
I'm the modern day Pablo,
Picasso, baby.

[Chorus: 2x]
Oh, what a feeling!
Picasso baby.
Ca Picasso baby.
Ca ca ca Picasso baby.
Ca ca ca Picasso baby.
Oh, what a feeling!