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Devil In A New Dress
Kanye West/Kanye West, Rick Ross
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Uh, uh
I love it, though
I love it, though, hah, you know? Uh
Put your hands to the constellations
The way you look should be a sin, you my sensation
I know I'm preachin' to the congregation
We love Jesus, but you done learned a lot from Satan, ha-ha
I mean, a - did a lot of waitin'
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 rash decisions, oh, she do it
What happened to religion? Oh, she lose it
She puttin' on her makeup, 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 -, I guess it's rubbin' off
Hood phenomenon, the LeBron of rhyme
Hard to be humble when you stuntin' on a jumbotron
I'm lookin' 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 sensation
I know I'm preachin' to the congregation
We love Jesus, but she done learned a lot from Satan
Satan, Satan, Satan
I mean, a - did a lot of waitin'
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 colors that'll fill up the skies
You got green on your mind, I can see it in your eyes
Why you standin' there with your face screwed up?
Don't leave while you're hot, that's how Mase screwed up
Throwin' sh- 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 humor
But tonight, you should have seen how quiet the room was
The Lyor Cohen of 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 sensation (huh)
Haven't said a word, haven't said a word to me this evening
Cat got your tongue?
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Lookin' at my -, I bet she give your - a bone
Lookin' at my wrist, it'll turn your - to stone
Stretch limousine, sippin' Rosรฉ all alone
Double-headed monster, with a mind of his own
Cherry red chariot, excess is just my character
All black tux, t-, the shoes lavender
I never needed acceptance from all you outsiders
Had cyphers with Yeezy, before his mouth wired (what?)
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 paper tag
Therefore, G4's at the Clearport
When it come to tools, fool, I'm a Pep Boy
When it came to -, 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 appetite's, had tapeworms
Spinnin' Teddy Pendergrass vinyl, as my - burns
I shed a tear before the night's over
God bless the man, I put this ice over
Huh, gettin' 2Pac money twice over
Still a real, real red Coogi sweater, dice roller
I'm makin' love to the angel of death
Catchin' feelings, never stumble, retracin' my steps
Uh, uh
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