Devil In A New Dress - Kanye West, Rick Ross

I love it though

I love it though, you know

Uh put your hands to the constellations

The way you look should be a sin, you my sinsation

I know I’m preaching to the congregation

We love Jesus but you done learned a lot from Satan

I mean a nigga did a lot of waiting

We ain’t married but tonight I need some consummation

May the Lord forgive us

May the gods be with us

In that magic hour I seen good Christians make brash decisions

Oh she do it, what happened to Religion?

Oh she lose it

She putting on her make-up

She casually allure

Text message break-ups, the casualty of tour

How she gon' wake up and not love me no more

I thought I was the asshole, I guess it’s rubbing off

Hood phenomenon, the Lebron of rhyme

Hard to be humble when you stunting on a Jumbotron

I’m looking at her like «this what you really wanted, huh?»

Why we argue anyway, oh I forgot it’s summertime

Put your hands to the constellations

The way you look should be a sin, you my sinsation

I know I’m preaching to the congregation

We love Jesus but she done learned a lot from Satan (Satan, Satan, Satan)

I mean a nigga did a lot of waiting

We ain’t married but tonight I need some consummation

When the sun go down it’s the magic hour

The magic hour

And outta all the colours that’ll fill up the skies

You got green on your mind

I can see it in your eyes

Why you standing there with your face screwed up?

Don’t leave while you’re hot that’s how Mase screwed up

Throwing shit around, the whole place screwed up

Maybe I should call Mase so he could pray for us

I hit the Jamaican spot, at the bar, take a seat

I ordered the jerk, she said, «You are what you eat.»

You see I always loved that sense of humour

But tonight you should have seen how quiet the room was

The Lyor Cohen or Dior Homme

That’s «Dior Homme"not «Dior, homie»

The crib Scarface, could it be more Tony?

You love me for me could you be more phony?

Put your hands to the constellations

The way you look should be a sin, you my sinsation

Haven’t said a word,

Haven’t said a word to me this evening

Cat got your tongue?

Lookin' at my bitch I bet she give your ass a bone

Lookin' at my wrist it’ll turn your ass to stone

Stretch limousine, sippin' Rosé all alone

Double-headed monster with a mind of his own

Cherry red chariot, excess is just my character

All black tux, nigga shoes lavender

I never needed acceptance from all you outsiders

Had cyphers with Yeezy before his mouth wired

Before his jaw shattered climbin' up the Lord’s ladder

We still speedin', runnin' signs like they don’t matter

Uh, hater talkin' never made me mad

Never that, not when I’m in my favorite papertag

Therefore G4s at the Clearport

When it come to tools, fool I’m a Pep Boy

When it came to dope, I was quick to export

Never tired of ballin' so it’s on to the next sport

New Mercedes sedan, the Lex sport

So many cars DMV thought it was mail fraud

Different traps, I was gettin' mail from

Polk County, Jacksonville, rep Melbourne

Whole clique’s appetite had tapeworms

Spinnin' Teddy Pendergrass vinyl as my jay burns

I shed a tear before the night’s over

God bless the man I put this ice over

Gettin' 2Pac money twice over

Still a real nigga, red Coogi sweater, dice roller

I’m makin' love to the angel of death

Catchin' feelings, never stumble, retracin' my steps