Clipse - Keys Open Doors lyrics

Keys open doors, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors

Yuugh, make your skin crawl
Press one button, let the wind fall
Who gon' stop us? Fuck the coppers
The mind of a kilo shopper
Seein' my life through the
Windshields of choppers
I ain't spent one rap dollar in three years
Holla money's the leash
Drag the bitch by a dog collar
Now, ho, follow
This is my ghetto story like Cham
Ice-P is the Don Dada open the Frigidaire
Twenty-five to life in here
So much white you might think
Your holy Christ is near
Throw on your Louis V millionaires
To kill the glare ice trays? Nada
All you'll see is pigeons paired
The realest shit I ever wrote
Not Pac inspired
It's crack pot inspired, my real niggas quote
Bitch, never cook my coke, why?
Never trust a ho with your child
At you make-believe rappers, I smile, hah
Canal Streeting my style
Like you internet sharin' my files
You MySpace niggas so kill the comparison
I'm South Beach sipping on Sarafin
Royalty check, nigga, I never been
Coke money clean through Merrill Lynch
Accountant just gasp at the smell of it
Meet the dealer, ain't a bitch realer
So you ain't gotta question why
Pusha don't feel you knock it the fuck off

Keys open doors, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors
(yeah, check it)
Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors

Throw it on the scale, feed your goddamn self
Get it how you live, we don't ask for help
(No) word on the street is you
Gon' love how it melt
And I don't come with a pitch neither
The shit sell it'self
I yell, "Re-up, " 'til I'm locked like Mumia
And get it cross-state with
The grace of Maria keep on toys
You gon' know us when you see us
Livin' street tales worthy of Don Divas
Keys in the floor, mistress in Dior
Bitch tell me she love me
But I know she's a whore
Shit could get ugly should she
Talk to the law and that's just what I get
It's the Roses of War
Fuck the Bureau, rather be spending Euros
We get fed grapes, fuck hoes in plurals
Just like heaven as I gaze at the mural
What a peace of mind when
You cop you some Shapiros
Cheers to the future as we toast to life
I'm Prive-ing in Miami, I'm a socialite
Nigga the cars are big, the cribs are bigger
The kids are happy, the perfect picture
Gemstar razor, the fruit of my labor
And I walk with a glow
It's like the Lord's shown favor
These bitches fake like the hoes on Flavor
But I don't mind spending, all
It is is paper, yes

Keys open doors, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors