Keys Open Doors Lyrics - Hell Hath No Fury - Clipse

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