Put your hands to the constellations
The way you look should be a sin,
you my sensation
I know I'm preaching to the congregation
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We love Jesus but you done learned,
a lot from Satan
I mean a nigga did a lot of waiting
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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
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What happened to religion? Oh, she lose it
She putting 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?
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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?
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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 preaching to the congregation
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We love Jesus but she done learned,
a lot from Satan
Satan, Satan, Satan
I mean a nigga did a lot of waiting
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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
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You got green on your mind,
I can see it in your eyes
Why you standing there,
wit' 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
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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
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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?
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You love me for me?
Lookin' at my bitch,
I bet she give your ass a bone
Lookin' at my wrist it'll turn yo' ass to stone
Stretch limousine, sipping Rosé all alone
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Double-headed monster wit' 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
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Had cyphers with Yeezy,
before his mouth wired (what?)
Before his jaw shattered,
climbing up the Lord's ladder
We still speeding, running signs,
like they don't matter
Uh, hater talking never made me mad
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Never that not,
when I'm in my favorite papertag
Therefore, G4's at the Clearport
When it come to tools fool I'm a Pep Boy
When it came to dope I was quick to export
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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 getting mail from
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Polk County,
Jacksonville, rep Melbourne
Whole clique appetite's had tapeworms
Spinning Teddy Pendergrass vinyl,
as my J burns
I shed a tear before the night's over
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God bless the man I put this ice over
Getting 2Pac money twice over
Still a real nigga, red Coogi sweater, dice roller
I'm making love to the angel of death
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Catching feelings never stumble,
Kanye West 
