Keys Open Doors

[Hook: Pusha T] Keys open doors Keys open doors [Verse 1: Pusha T] (Yough!) Make your skin crawl Press one button, let the wind fall Who gonna stop us? Fuck the coppers! The mind of a kilo shopper Seeing my life through the windshields of choppers I ain't spend one rap dollar in 3 years, holla! Money's the leash, drag a bitch by her dog collar Now, ho follow, this is my ghetto story Like Cham, Ice-P is the Don Dada Open the Frigidaire, 25 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 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! HA! Canal Streeting my style Like you internet sharing my files, you MySpace niggas So kill the comparison, I'm South Beach sipping on Sarafin Royalty check nigga, I never been Cook money clean through Merrill Lynch Accountant just gasp at the smell of it! (Gasp!) Meet the dealer, ain't a bitch realer So you ain't gotta question why Pusha don't feel ya! Knock it the fuck off! [Hook] [Verse 2: Malice] Throw it on the scale, feed your God damn self Get it how you live, we don't ask for help (No) Word on the street is you gonna 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 Mumia And get it 'cross the state with the grace of Maria Keep on toys, you goin' 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 Law And that's just what I get, its 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 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 is big, the cribs is 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! [Hook]