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Kanye West( Kanye Omari West )
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Devil In A New Dress
Lyricist:William Roberts, Kanye West
I love it though I love it though You know
Put your hands to the constellations They 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
I mean a nigga did a lot of waitin' We ain't married but tonight I need some consummation 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 gon' wake up and not love me no more
I thought I was the ass hole, 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 want it, huh?' What we argue anyway, oh, I forgot it's summertime
Put your hands to the constellations They 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 nigga 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 are still 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' 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 you jerk, she said, 'You are what you eat' You see I always loved your sense of humor But tonight you should have seen how quiet the room was Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
The Lyor Cohen or Dior Homme That's Dior Homme not Dior homie The crib scarface couldn't be more Tony You love me for me, could you be more phony?
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 evenin' 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 along 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 Hater talkin' never made me mad Never that when I'm in my favorite paper tag
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
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