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  • Jay-Z, Picasso Baby

    Performance de six heures à la Pace Galerie, filmée par Mark Romanek


    [Verse 1]
    Uh, 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 want a Rothko, no, I want a 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, uh
    All for the love of drug dealing, uh
    Marble floors, uh, gold ceilings, uh
    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]
    Oh, what a feeling
    Picasso, baby
    Picasso
    Picasso, baby
    Oh, what a feeling
    Picasso, baby
    Picasso
    Picasso, baby

    [Verse 2]
    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
    'Cause 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 'head, lean on that shit, Blue, you own it, uh

    [Chorus]
    Oh, what a feeling
    Picasso, baby
    Picasso
    Picasso, baby
    Oh, what a feeling
    Picasso, baby
    Picasso
    Picasso, baby

    [Skit]
    Woman: 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?
    Jay-Z: The golden number
    Woman: Touché

    [Verse 3]
    Okay, 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 'til 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 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


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