Disfruta y escucha de la Música en Línea de Kanye West en Hip Hop para el año 2025

I love it though
I love it though
Y'know?

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
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 gone 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 stuntin' 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 sin-sation
I know I'm preaching to the congregation
We love Jesus, but you 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 with 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 you 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 sin-sation
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 yo ass a bone
Lookin' at my wrist, it'll turn yo ass to stone
Stretch limousine, sipping 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, 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 gettin’ mail from
Polk County, Jacksonville, rep Melbourne

Whole clique's appetite had tapeworms
Spinnin’ 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

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