Lyrical Breakdown of Devil In A New Dress - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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 preaching to the congregation

We love Jesus but you done learned a lot from Satan, ha-ha

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 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 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 sensation

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 colors that'll fill up the skies

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

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

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 yo' ass to stone

Stretch limousine, sipping Rosé all alone

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catching feelings never stumble, retracing my steps