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

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    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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