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 lyrics of GZA's song "Gold" describe the gritty reality of the drug trade in urban neighborhoods. The opening lines of the song convey a message of authority and power. The singer warns that anyone caught engaging in illegal activity will face retaliation, as the streets belong to him. He also asserts that his territory extends from 220 to 140, making it clear that this is no place for outsiders. The second verse goes deeper into the singer's criminal activities, revealing that he is involved in drug sales and the use of violence to maintain his hold over the neighborhood. He describes a plot to eliminate rival dealers and boasts about his connections to higher-level criminals who control larger operations.
The chorus of the song, repeated throughout, speaks to the relentless pursuit of wealth and power that drives these criminal enterprises. The singer admits that there is no purity in the product he sells, no neighborhood too rough to exploit, and no limit to the violence he is willing to use to protect his interests. He is driven by an insatiable hunger for gold, a desire he is willing to kill and die for.
Overall, "Gold" is a stark portrayal of the desperation and lawlessness that characterizes life in certain neighborhoods. GZA uses vivid language and a hard-hitting beat to convey the intensity and danger of this world. His lyrics are both visceral and poetic, illuminating the dark corners of human nature and society's failures.
Line by Line Meaning
A-yo shorty, yo that's my word
Listen up, I'm serious
Oh, y'all smelling y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
You think you're fancy and successful, but you're not
Yo anybody get caught flinging
Anyone caught selling drugs
Over here, I'm returning 'em, that's my word they getting blasted
I'm taking care of any drug dealers in my area, they'll face the consequences
Anything from 220 to 140, that's mine
All drugs sold in my area belong to me
Y'all need to step the fuck off
You need to back away from my business
Y'all niggas ain't crazy for real
You're not as tough as you think you are
The fiends ain't coming fast enough
My customers aren't buying drugs fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
No drug is pure enough for my customers
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
I can't afford to quit, I need to keep making money by getting more drugs
Product must be sold to you
I must keep selling drugs to you
I'm deep down in the back streets, in the heart of Medina
I'm selling drugs in a dangerous area
About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
I'm about to do something more serious than a minor crime
Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
I'm hiding under the subway waiting for the right moment to act
So I can blast a nigga and his boys,for what?
I'll use my gun to attack someone and their friends, for what reason?
He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop
He interfered with my drug sales causing them to decrease
Like the crash in the Dow Jones stock
Similar to the stock market crashing
I had a connect to cross-sales, to catch more mill's
I had a connection to buy drugs from other dealers to make more money
Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
More money than prostitutes have birth control pills
I'm in the park setting up a deal over blunt fire
I'm arranging a drug deal in a park while smoking marijuana
Bum nigga sleeping on the bench, they had him wired
A homeless person was sleeping on the bench and someone had them under surveillance
Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
They listened to my conversation and found out where I lived
And how I changed a nigga name to John Doe
They discovered how I changed a person's identity
And while we set up camp, we got vamped
We were attacked while preparing for our deal
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
We killed the attacker violently
Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
Our enemy was killed like Brandon Lee was on a movie set
Blown out the frame like Pan Am Flight 103
Killed extremely violently, similar to the Pan Am Flight 103 explosion
He got swung on, his lungs was torn
He was hit hard and severely injured
A kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A drug lord made a move and lost one of his men
A regular on the block that played lookout
Someone who keeps watch while drug deals are being made
For playing predator with a Glock, he should have took out
He should have used his gun to kill his enemies
No neighborhood is rough enough
No area is too dangerous for me
There is no clip that's full enough
I need more bullets than I currently have
It's mandatory that I supply all my troops with mega firearms
I must provide my men with powerful weapons
Big apes and spread 'em out like crops on a farm
I distribute the weapons widely like crops on a farm
To get cream, sometimes they repaint the scene
To make money, sometimes they change the situation
Like the last episode on gates, and other niggas
They make it seem like the situation resolved itself, but it's not true
Plant bombs till the smoke from the blast becomes thick
They plant bombs and wait until the smoke clears before attacking
And flows through, all they knew, he's gun sick
The smoke reveals the attacker who is obsessed with guns
His Glock clicks like high-heeled shoes on parquet floors
The sound of his gun clicking is loud and noticeable
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars
He's crazy, ready to fight and conquer any territory
Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, he's out to hurt
He's ruthless and committed to harming others
For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
For example, he'll cut off someone's hands to show his power
His idols would lock down airports and extort
His role models controlled airports and demanded payment
Some import, catching ten percent of what the fiends snort
They import drugs and take a cut of their customers' purchases
Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
They sell drugs in ski resorts and mountainous areas
They move keys and had the skis making drops on snowmobiles
They transport drugs using skis and snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
The goal was to expand their drug operation and make millions
And live large and bigger than my nigga
They want to live a more successful lifestyle than their peers
Who promised his moms a mansion with mad room
One of their associates promised his mother a big house
She died and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb
Even after his mother died, he put a lot of money in her grave
Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors
He's dealing with emotional pain but keeps it hidden from others
And still organized his crime and drug wars
He continues to run his criminal activities while dealing with personal issues.
There's no cuffs that's tight enough
No handcuffs can hold me
There is no niggas that's fuck with us
No one can mess with us
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: LAILA SAMUELS, NOAH ALEXANDER ROSANES, TOM DEININGER
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind