[Chorus] Uh put your hands to the constellations they way you look should be a sin, you my sensation I know I’m preaching to the congregation we love Jesus but you done learned a lot from Satan
I mean a n-gga did a lot of waiting we aint married but tonight I need some consummation
[Kanye West - Verse 1] may the Lord forgive us may the God’s be with us and that magic hour I seen good christians make rash 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 up, the casualty of tour how she gone wake up and not love me no more I thought I was the ass hole, I guess it’s rubbing off hood phenomenom, the Lebron of rhyme hard to be humble when you stuntin on a jumbotron I’m looking at her like “this what you really want it, huh?” what we argue anyway, oh I forgot its summertime
[Chorus]
(satan, satan, satan)
[Kanye West - Verse 2] When the sun go down its the magic hour the magic hour and outta all the colours that are still 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 your hot that’s how Mase screwed up throwing sh-t around, the whole place screwed up maybe I should call Mase so that he could pray for us I hit the Jamaican spot, at the bar, take a seat I ordered you jerk, she said “you are what you eat” you see I always loved your sense of humour but tonight you should have seen how quiet the room was the Lyor Cohen or Dior Homme thats Dior Homme not Dior homie the crib scarface couldn’t be more Tony you love me for me could you be more phoney
[Chorus] Uh put your hands to the constellations they way you look should be a sin, you my sensation haven’t said a word, haven’t said a word to me this evening Cat got your tongue?
[Rick Ross - Verse 3] 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 along Double-headed monster with a mind of his own Cherry red chariot, excess is just my character All black tux, nigga the 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 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, they’ll export So many cars DMV though 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 nights 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 [End]
Almerizio Neto
Compositor: Kanye West Feat. Rick RossPublicado em 2010ECAD verificado fonograma #2727270 em 15/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM