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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
JAY-Z
JAY-Z
Vocals
Zofia Borucka Morena
Zofia Borucka Morena
Vocals
Adrian Younge
Adrian Younge
Sampled Artist
Calibro 35
Calibro 35
Sampled Artist
The Dream
The Dream
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jerome Jroc Harmon
Jerome Jroc Harmon
Songwriter
Shawn Carter
Shawn Carter
Songwriter
Adrian Younge
Adrian Younge
Songwriter
Tommaso Colliva
Tommaso Colliva
Songwriter
Timothy Mosley
Timothy Mosley
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Timbaland
Timbaland
Producer
Chris Godbey
Chris Godbey
Recording Engineer
Demacio Castellon
Demacio Castellon
Mixing Engineer
Ramon Rivas
Ramon Rivas
Recording Engineer
Matt Weber
Matt Weber
Assistant Recording Engineer
Jerome Harmon
Jerome Harmon
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Uh, 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, uh, all for the love of drug dealing
Uh, marble floors, uh, gold ceiling
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
[Verse 2]
Oh, what a feeling
Picasso, baby, Pica-Picasso, baby
Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby, Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby
Oh, what a feeling
Picasso, baby, Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby
Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby, Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby
[Verse 3]
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 ****, 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
Ah, 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
[Verse 4]
Oh, what a feeling
Picasso, baby, Pica-Picasso, baby
Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby, Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby
Oh, what a feeling
Picasso, baby, Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby
Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby, Pica-Pica-Picasso, baby
[Verse 5]
Jay, comment tu dis nombre d'or?
The golden number
Touché
[Verse 6]
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 a booth the cameras popped
**** 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 hand 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?
**** 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
Written by: Adrian Younge, Chris Godbey, Garland Mosley, Jerome Harmon, Shawn Carter, Timbaland, Tommaso Colliva
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