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