Lyrics:

I love it though
I love it though

Uh put your hands to the constellations
The way you look should be a sin, you my "sin-sation"
I know I'm preaching to the congregation
We love Jesus but you done learned a lot from Satan
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
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 phenomenon, the LeBron of rhyme
Hard to be humble when you stuntin on a jumbotron
I'm looking at her like "this what you really wanted, huh?"
What we argue anyway, oh I forgot its summertime

Uh put your hands to the constellations
The way you look should be a sin, you my "sin-sation"
I know I'm preaching to the congregation
We love Jesus but you done learned a lot from 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 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 shit 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

Uh put your hands to the constellations
The way you look should be a sin, you my "sin-sation"
Haven't said a word, haven't said a word
To me this evening
Cat got your tongue?

Rick Ross:
Lookin' at my bitch i bet she give yo ass a bone
Lookin' at my wrist, itta turn yo ass to stone
Stretch limousine, sippin rosé all alone
Double headed monster with a mind of its 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 climbing up the lord's ladder
We still speeding, running signs like they don't matter
Hater talking never made me mad
Never that not when i'm in my favorite paper tag

Therefore G4s at the Clearport
When it come to tools fool Im a Pep Boy
When it came to dope I was quick to export
Never tired of ballin so its on to the next sport

New Mercedes sedan, theyll export
So many cars DMV thought it was mail fraud
Different traps, I was gettin mail from
Polk County, Jacksonville, rep Melbourne

Whole clique appetites had tapeworms
Spinnin Teddy Pendergrass vinyl as my jay burns
I shed a tear before the night's over
God bless the man I put this ice over

Gettin 2Pac money twice over
Still a real nigga, red Coogi sweater, dice roller
Im makin love to the angel of death
Catchin feelings never stumble retracin my steps