Picasso Baby Lyrics - Magna Carta Holy Grail - Jay-z

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 

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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 

Yellow Basquiat in my kitchen corner 

Go ahead lean on that shit Blue 

You own it 

Photos 

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 

"Et là je t'ai tout donné, montré, rien à cacher, tu es là Ivy, comme le nombre d'or. 

Jay, comment tu dis nombre d'or?" 

"The golden number." 

"Touché." 

OK! 

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