The Clipse - Keys Open Doors

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Keys open doors, keys open doors

Keys open doors, keys, keys open doors



Make ya 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 spend one rap dollar in 3 years, holla



Money's the least, drag a bitch 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 kill the glare

Ice trays, Nada, all you see is pigeons paired



The realest shit I ever wrote, not Pac inspired

It's crack pot inspired, my real niggaz quote

Bitch never cook my coke, why? Never trust a ho with your child

At you make believe rappers I smile, ha



Canals treatin' my style, like you Internet sharing my files

You're my space niggaz

So kill the comparison, I'm South Beach sippin' on Sara Fin'

Wellfy check nigga, I never been, cook money clean through Maryland



Shit, countin' 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 ya

Now get 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 ya 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 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



Keys in the floor, mistress in Dior

Bitch tell me she love me, but I know she's a whore

Shit could get ugly, shit she talk to the Lord now

It's just what I get, it's the roses of war



Fuck the bureau, rather be spending Euros

And get fed grapes, fuck 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

I'm preventing Miami, I'm a socialite, nigga

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 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











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