Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
Nacho Picasso
*curing it, referring to the practice of drying out bud (in this case in a jar) to prepare it for smoking
[Verse 1]
84 Camaro in the color of the Pharaoh's skin
Started smokin' Perc 30's, now you're shootin' heroin?
Niggas say I'm arrogant, I just say American
Blood money, drug money, buried in our heritage
Diamonds are a girl's best friend, word to Marilyn
Keep my bitch on thin ice, Nancy Kerrigan
Gave a shit, paid the price, swear to never care again
Bury me with my wealth, I ain't leave no heir or kin
Assassin on Seroquel, sinuses need Claritin
I ain't neva grew up, cause I ain't have no parentin'
Pop a pill and TU'd up, I like to experiment
Pop up and she chews up, she might think I'm spearmint
Reflect my environment, you might think I'm maritim
Spiritual and militant, feelin' it, not fearin' it
Weird thugs with ear plugs, nigga, we ain't hearin' shit
Girl scout cookie jar that just mean I'm curin' it
[Hook]
Had a date with destiny, I got drunk and stood her up
They tell me life's a bitch, tell that bitch I'm tryna fuck
I know that eventually I would get up out this rut
I'm a nut, I run em up, takin' bumps up in the trump
[Verse 2]
Boppers on the Intercome, said somebody, let her in
The way she be jockin' me, she should wear a letterman
Sniffin' blow and suckin' cock the only thing she lettered in
Forgot where I met the broad, might of been the Netherlands
Stop it we were never friends, pop it for a severance
Even when I'm in bed, you inbred the severance
PCP and cigarettes, I don't need no vitamins
Heart torn like ligaments, imaginary fig-a-ments
My clothes are too tight, my hoes are all tens
Life's an 80' movie, so we knows how it ends
I head the made men and I never made 'mends
So before the credits roll, hope my soul's gettin' cleansed
I done made a couple dollars, I ain't never made sense
So I built up a wall and around that a fence
My hands are both clenched and my shoulders are tense
And my momma break down like a ten bag again
[Hook]
In the Trump was produced by Harry Fraud.