GOLD
DJ Muggs Lyrics
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Aiyyo shorty, yo that's my word
Oh, y'all smellin y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
Yo anybody get caught playin
Over here, I'm returnin em that's my word that they be blasted
Anything from two-twenty to one-forty, that's mine
Y'all need to step the fuck off
Chorus: genius
Yo, the fiends ain't comin fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
Verse one: genius
I'm deep down in the back streets - in the heart of medina
About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
So I can blast a nigga and his boys - for what?
He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop
Like the crashin of dow jones stock
I had to connect to cross seals, to catch more mil's
Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
I'm in the park, settin up a deal over blunt fire
Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
And how I changed a nigga name to john doe
And while we set up camp, we got vamp
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set like brandon lee
Blown out the frame, like pan am flight 103
He got swung on, his lungs was torn, the
Kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and played look-out
For playing predator with a glock, he should have took out
Chorus:
No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no clip that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you. yo
Fiends ain't comin fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
Verse two: genius
It's mandatory that
I supply all my troops with mega firearms
Big apes, and spread em out like crops on a farm
To get cream, sometimes they repaint the scene
Like the last episode on gates and other niggaz
Plant bombs til the smoke from the blast becomes thick
And flows through all they knew, he's gun sick
His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars
Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
His idols would lock down airports and extort
Some import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
They move keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
And live large and bigger than my nigga
Who promised his moms a mansion with mad rooms
She died, and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors
And still organized his crime and drug wars
Chorus:
Fiends ain't comin fast enough
There is no cut that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no clips that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
The peers that come is tight enough
There is no niggaz that's fuckin up
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold, to you
The song "Gold" by DJ Muggs featuring Method Man and Genius (aka GZA) is a gritty portrayal of the drug trade, and the struggle for power, wealth and survival. The song lyrics describe a world where drug dealers and their crews operate on the streets, in subway stations, and even in parks, engaging in violent conflicts and making deals in shadowy corners. The chorus emphasizes the need for more cash, more product to sell and more power to stay ahead of the competition. The first verse describes a confrontation between two drug crews, which resulted in a deadly shootout, and the singer's ruthless plan to eliminate the rival gang member who revealed his location. The second verse portrays a more sophisticated and organized criminal enterprise, where the leader provides his troops with weapons, and plans to expand his business to reach new heights of profits.
The lyrics of the song reveal the brutal logic of the drug trade, where the search for money and power leads to violence and betrayal, and where individuals are expendable in the pursuit of profit. Yet the song also highlights the resilience and resourcefulness of those who operate on the margins of society, and who have found a way to survive and even thrive in a hostile environment. Method Man's intro warns against those who underestimate the toughness and determination of the people in the game, while Genius's verses showcase his lyrical skill and his insights into the psychology of the criminal mind.
Line by Line Meaning
Aiyyo shorty, yo that's my word
Hey listen, what I am about to say is serious and truthful.
Oh, y'all smellin y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
You only feel accomplished because you've smelt yourself and assume that you're rich.
Yo anybody get caught playin
If anyone is caught playing around or acting stubborn,
Over here, I'm returnin em that's my word that they be blasted
I guarantee that I will take care of them, and they will suffer the consequences.
Anything from two-twenty to one-forty, that's mine
I own anything that goes within the range of 220 to 140.
Y'all need to step the fuck off
You all should back off and steer clear of my business.
Y'all niggaz ain't crazy for real
You guys aren't truly insane as you claim to be.
Yo, the fiends ain't comin fast enough
Drug addicts aren't coming in high enough numbers.
There is no cut that's pure enough
No drugs are pure enough for my clients.
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
I cannot back down, as I need more money and must continue selling drugs.
Product must be sold to you
I must sell my product to make a profit.
I'm deep down in the back streets - in the heart of medina
I am situated in a concealed and dangerous place in Medina.
About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
I am planning to initiate a criminal offense far worse than a misdemeanor.
Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
I am positioned beneath the subway waiting for a signal to carry out an attack.
So I can blast a nigga and his boys - for what?
I plan on assaulting him and his crew, and I don't regret it.
He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop
He ruined our drug sales by entering our territory.
Like the crashin of dow jones stock
It resembled the decline of Dow Jones Stock Exchange.
I had to connect to cross seals, to catch more mil's
I had to make a deal with other drug dealers for more profit.
Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
More money than prostitutes may use on birth control.
I'm in the park, settin up a deal over blunt fire
I am negotiating a deal with someone in the park while lighting a blunt.
Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em wired
Some people sleeping on the bench are tapped by the police.
Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
Someone overheard our conversation and now knows the location of my condo.
And how I changed a nigga name to john doe
I successfully kept someone anonymous by changing his name to John Doe.
And while we set up camp, we got vamp
We executed our plan successfully.
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
We killed him brutally so that he would no longer be a danger to us.
Snake got smoked on the set like brandon lee
He was killed on the spot, like Brandon Lee in a movie set.
Blown out the frame, like pan am flight 103
He was killed explosively, like Pan Am Flight 103 that crashed.
He got swung on, his lungs was torn, the
He was punched so hard that his lungs were damaged.
Kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
The leader of our group made a smart move against our enemy's pawn.
A regular on the block, and played look-out
He was just a regular guy on the block and was supposed to keep watch.
For playing predator with a glock, he should have took out
He should have killed the guy who had a gun before he got attacked.
No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no place too dangerous for us.
There is no clip that's full enough
No amount of ammo is enough for our guns.
The peers that come is tight enough
Our group is very close-knit and loyal.
There is no niggaz that's fuckin up
No one can mess with us.
Writer(s): Gary Grice, Robert F. Diggs
Contributed by Gabriel K. Suggest a correction in the comments below.