Sweaters

[Verse 1: Nacho Picasso] No 9-5, fuck the funny wages Plus I'm inked up like the fucking funny pages And when I'm geeked up I be making funny faces We be paper chasing meet me at the money races No niggas on the dollar so I think my money's racist I blow it all on tats so I think my moneys tasteless My body is a timeline, my face is something ageless My tats is like fine wine, your tats is something tasteless Ten hour back tat I'm awfully sore Show your whore, rub it in like aquafor This a tattoo parlor not a tattoo store Get a hundred tats then I add two more I increase the peace just to add to war I'm masterpiece in Jordan IV's Paper made ink pours inside my pores I'm black like the moors, but I act like the doors [Hook 2x: Nacho Picasso] There's is cool, but ours is better They got sleeves guess we got sweaters I'm a masterpiece, he just lines and letters Me I change my skin like I'm Hannibal Lector [Verse 2: Nacho Picasso] Catching up to Nacho, nigga fat chance I been getting tatted, you just blew your advance I'm feeling like Nirvana, tattoo's on my hand We been wearing flannels, putting stamps on our tramps In my city with these tats, I'm the tramp to a yamp Got a vulture on my neck, and a shootout on my back Niggas moving elbows like an on block attack Nacho be so fly call it launch pad mcQuack Ink spots on my body like a Rorschack test Body marked up, yeah, like a fourth grade desk In the northwest, like a NorthFace fest Your girl asks if I want, more face? Yes Now I look like a coloring book Fly as Peter Pan now her phones off the hook If it was a color you could color me crook Chicks tryna read my tats like a little black book [Hook 2x]