Clipse - Keys Open Doors [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[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]