GOLD
Genius & GZA Lyrics
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Oh, y'all smelling y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
Yo anybody get caught flinging
Over here, I'm returning 'em, that's my word they getting blasted
Anything from 220 to 140, that's mine
Y'all need to step the fuck off
Y'all niggas ain't crazy for real
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
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 crash in the Dow Jones stock
I had a connect to cross-sales, to catch more mill's
Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
I'm in the park setting up a deal over blunt fire
Bum nigga sleeping on the bench, they had him 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 vamped
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
A kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block that played lookout
For playing predator with a Glock, he should have took out
No neighbourhood 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
Fiends ain't coming 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
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 niggas
Plant bombs till 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 parquet floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars
Filthy foul, shovelling dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
His idols would lock down airports and extort
Some import, catching ten percent of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
They move keys and had the 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 room
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
Fiends ain't coming 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
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
There's no cuffs that's tight enough
There is no niggas that's fuck with us
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
The song "Gold" by Genius and GZA is a portrayal of the harsh realities of the drug game. It starts with Genius warning his rivals that he will not hesitate to "blast" anyone who tries to encroach on his territory. This is a typical theme in gangster rap, where rappers boast about their ability to use violence to protect their interests.
The second verse sees GZA taking the listener deep into the back streets, where drug deals are being made under the cover of darkness. He describes how he has to be vigilant at all times, as there are always people trying to steal his product or cut into his profits. The line "I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload" reinforces the notion that the drug game is all about making money, and that there is no room for weakness or indecision.
The final verse takes an even darker turn, as GZA describes the lengths that drug dealers will go to in order to protect their interests. He talks about planting bombs and chopping off hands, and paints a picture of a violent and ruthless underworld. The song ends on a chilling note, with the repeated refrain "Product must be sold to you", underscoring the idea that the drug game is a never-ending cycle of violence and greed.
Line by Line Meaning
A-yo shorty, yo that's my word
Hey, listen up, I'm serious
Oh, y'all smelling y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
You're feeling yourself but you're not as cool as you think you are
Yo anybody get caught flinging
If someone is caught selling drugs here in my area
Over here, I'm returning 'em, that's my word they getting blasted
I'm in charge here, and if anyone sells drugs without my permission, they will face consequences
Anything from 220 to 140, that's mine
I control the entire spectrum of drug sales in this area
Y'all need to step the fuck off
You guys better back down and show respect
Y'all niggas ain't crazy for real
You think you're tough, but you're not
The fiends ain't coming fast enough
My drug sales aren't making enough money
There is no cut that's pure enough
No drug supplier can provide me with pure enough drugs
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
I can't afford to fail, I need money, so I have to resupply and keep going
Product must be sold to you
I'll find a way to sell drugs to you, one way or another
I'm deep down in the back streets, in the heart of Medina
I'm operating in a dangerous location, far from the public eye
About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
I'm planning something serious
Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
I'm hiding underground, waiting for the right moment to act
So I can blast a nigga and his boys,for what?
So I can shoot a guy and his friends, for what reason?
He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop
He disrupted my drug sales by selling drugs in my area
Like the crash in the Dow Jones stock
His actions caused a significant dip in my profits
I had a connect to cross-sales, to catch more mill's
I had connections to sell drugs to a larger market and make more money
Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
I made more money than a prostitute sells birth control pills
I'm in the park setting up a deal over blunt fire
I'm smoking weed with someone and making a drug deal at the same time
Bum nigga sleeping on the bench, they had him wired
A homeless guy was listening in on our conversation, he was undercover
Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
He overheard my conversation and got my home address
And how I changed a nigga name to John Doe
He also learned that I had killed somebody and got away with it
And while we set up camp, we got vamped
While we were making the drug deal, we were ambushed
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
We killed him in a violent way
Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
We killed him on the spot
Blown out the frame like Pan Am Flight 103
He was killed brutally
He got swung on, his lungs was torn
He was attacked violently and his lungs were damaged
A kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A drug lord made a strategic move, but lost a valuable asset
A regular on the block that played lookout
A guy who was a regular drug dealer and kept watch for police
For playing predator with a Glock, he should have took out
He made a mistake by trying to act tough with a gun and got killed
No neighbourhood is rough enough
There's no area wilder than where I operate
There is no clip that's full enough
I always need more ammunition
There's no cuffs that's tight enough
I can never be restricted or caught
There is no niggas that's fuck with us
No one can mess with my crew
Product must be sold to you
I'm determined to sell drugs to you, regardless of the risks or consequences
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: ROBERT F. DIGGS, GARY E. GRICE
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind