Luyện nghe bài hát Keys Open Doors

Keys open doors, keys doors
Keys doors, keys, keys open doors

Make ya skin crawl, press one button, let the fall
Who gon' stop us? Fuck the coppers, the mind of a shopper
Seein' my life the windshields of choppers
I ain't spend one rap dollar in 3 years,

Money's the least, drag a bitch by her dog
Now ho folla', is my ghetto story
Like Cham, Ice-P is the Don
the Frigidaire, 25 to life in here

So white you might think ya Holy Christ is near
Throw on your Louis V to kill the glare
Ice trays, Nada, all you see is pigeons

The realest shit I wrote, not Pac inspired
It's crack pot inspired, my niggaz quote
Bitch never cook my coke, why? Never trust a ho your child
At you believe rappers I smile, ha

Canals treatin' my style, like you sharing my files
You're my space
So kill the comparison, I'm South Beach sippin' on Fin'
Wellfy check nigga, I been, cook money clean through Maryland

Shit, countin' gasp at the smell of it
the dealer, ain't a bitch realer
So you ain't gotta question why Pusha feel ya
Now get the off

Keys doors, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys doors
Keys doors, keys open doors
open doors, keys, keys open doors

Keys open doors, keys doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open
Yeah, it
Keys open doors, keys, keys doors

Throw it on the scale, ya goddamn self
Get it how you live, we ask for help, no
Word on the street is you love how it melt
And I don't come with a pitch neither, the shit itself

I yell re-up 'til I'm locked like
And get it cross the state the grace of Maria
Keep on toys, you gon' know us you see us
Living street tales of Don Divas

Keys in the floor, in Dior
Bitch tell me she love me, but I know she's a
Shit could get ugly, shit she talk to the now
It's just what I get, it's the of war

the bureau, rather be spending Euros
And get fed grapes, hoes in plurals
like Heaven as I gaze at the mural
What a piece of mind when you some Shapiro's

to the future as we toast to life
I'm preventing Miami, I'm a socialite,
The cars is big, the is bigger
The are happy, the perfect picture

Gem razor, the fruit of my labor
And I walk with a glow, it's like the Lord's favor
bitches fake like the hoes on flavor
But I don't spending, all it is is paper, yes

open doors, keys open doors
Keys open doors, keys, keys open
Keys open doors, keys open
Keys open doors, keys, keys open

Keys open doors, keys open
open doors, keys, keys open doors
Keys doors, keys, keys open doors