Текст песни Clipse - Keys Open Doors

Hell Hath No Fury
Жанр: Rap
Исполнитель: Clipse
Альбом: Hell Hath No Fury
Длительность: 03:19
Рейтинг: 415
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: G_Dollar_S

Текст:

[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 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 coppers 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 Its 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 +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! (Gasp!) 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! [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 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 KIs 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 Its 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 piece of mind when you copy some Shapiro's Cheers to the future as we toast to life I pre-???ing in 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! [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
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