Clipse - Keys Open Doors lyrics

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Clipse - Keys Open Doors lyrics

(Chorus: Pusha T) KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs, KIs open doors (Verse 1: Pusha T) EEYUCK! Make ya skin crawl Press one bu*ton, let the wind fall Who gon' stop us? f** the coppers! The mind of a KILO shopper Seein' my life through the windshields of choppers I ain't spend one rap dollar in 3 years, holla! Money's the least, drag a b**h by her dog collar Now ho folla', this is my +GHETTO STORY+ Like Cham, Ice-P is the Don Dotta Open the Frigidaire, 25 to life in here So much white you might think ya Holy Christ is near Throw on your Louis V millionaires to k** the glare Ice trays? Nada! All you see is pigeons paired The realest sh** I ever wrote, not Pac inspired Its crack pot inspired, my real n***az quote b**h never cook my coke! Why? Never trust a ho with your child At you make believe rappers I smile! HA! Can*l Streetin' my style, like you internet sharing my files You +My Space+ n***az! So k** the comparison, I'm South Beach sippin on sarafin Royalty check n***a, I never been! Coke money clean through Merill Lynch Accountant just gasp at the smell of it! (Gasp!) Meet the dealer, ain't a b**h realer So you ain't gotta question why Pusha don't feel ya! Now get the f** off! (Chorus: Pusha T) KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs, KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs, KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs, KIs open doors (Yeah) (Check it!) KIs open doors KIs, KIs open doors (Verse 2: Malice) Throw it on the scale, feed ya God damn 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 sh** sell itself! I yell Re-Up til I'm locked like Ma-Mia And get it cross the state with the grace of Maria Keep on toys, you gon know us when you see us Living street tales worthy of Don Divas KIs in the floor, mistress in Dior b**h tell me she love me, but I know she's a who*e sh** could get ugly, sh** she talk to the Lord Its just what I get, its the roses of war f** the Bureau! Rather be spending Euros And get fed grapes, f** hoes in plurals Just like Heaven as I gaze at the mural What a piece of mind when you copy some Shapiro's Cheers to the future as we toast to life Im pre-gaming Miami, I'm a socialite, n***a! The cars is big, the cribs is bigger The kids are happy, the perfect picture Gem Star razor, the fruit of my labor And I walk with a glow, it's like the Lord's shown favor These b**hes fake like the hoes on +Flavor+ But I don't mind spending, all it is is paper! Yes! (Chorus: Pusha T) KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs, KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs, KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs open doors KIs, KIs open doors ... ... KIs open doors KIs, KIs, open doors