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  • Текст песни Clipse - Keys Open Doors

    Просмотров: 37
    0 чел. считают текст песни верным
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    На этой странице находится текст песни Clipse - Keys Open Doors, а также перевод песни и видео или клип.
    [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

    Смотрите также:

    Все тексты Clipse >>>

    [ 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 windfall
    Who gon 'stop us ? Fuck the coppers ! The mind of a KILO shopper
    Seein 'my life through the windshields of coppers
    I is not 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 , Is not a bitch realer
    So you is not gotta question why Pusha do not 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 do not ask for help ( No)
    Word on the street is you gon love how it melt
    And I do not 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 Mary
    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 Office! 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
    Star Gem 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 cover on Flavor + +
    But I do not 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
    Kish, Kish, open doors

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