This is a song about "Door hand"

I start to think it's all planned

To get to hold your hand

Some old bitch that we did before

You showed me to the door

I don't know.. what you're lookin' for

I'll ring your bell like i'm goin door to door

Not relying on the light no more

But we so poor, we got no door,

When they give the grammy in my hand.

You’re on neon lights in my bank

This shit would leave rosetta stoned

Hand to hand in the cold

The shit that i spit is more

Saw somethin happenn next door

A man around 40, he answers the door,

Or something that you paid for