GOLD
The Genius Inspectah Deck Lyrics


Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴  Line by Line Meaning ↴

A-yo shorty, yo that's my word
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
Yo, the 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

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

Overall Meaning

In the lyrics to the song "Gold," The Genius Inspectah Deck is using vivid imagery to describe the life of a drug dealer in the rough streets of Medina. He begins by warning anyone who tries to cross him that they will be "blasted" and ends by saying that no one can "fuck with us" in his drug operation. The song uses strong language and violent themes to convey this message.


The first verse warns those who are smelling their own urine and believing that they are wealthy that they are mistaken. The second verse discusses the need for product to be sold and the difficulties in finding pure enough drugs. The third verse is the most graphic, describing the violence that is often part of the drug trade. Deck talks about murdering a man and his boys after they caused his drug sales to drop. He also describes using bombs to control his territory, and the need for firearms.


The chorus repeats the idea that there is never enough product or money, and that Deck must always re-up and reload. The song has a very tense and urgent mood, reflecting the life of a drug dealer in a violent and competitive environment.


Line by Line Meaning

A-yo shorty, yo that's my word
Listen up, this is important and I mean what I say.


Oh, y'all smelling y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
You're getting too full of yourselves because of minor successes.


Yo anybody get caught flinging
If someone gets caught slacking, I'm dealing with them severely.


Over here, I'm returning 'em, that's my word they getting blasted
If anyone comes here with trouble, I will shoot them without hesitation.


Anything from 220 to 140, that's mine
I have complete control over this area, from the hundred-and-forties to the two twenties.


Y'all need to step the fuck off
You need to stay away and not mess with us.


Y'all niggas ain't crazy for real
You're not really as tough as you pretend to be.


The fiends ain't coming fast enough
The drug addicts aren't buying our products as quickly as we need them to.


There is no cut that's pure enough
Our drugs are never pure enough for the addicts, they always want more.


I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
I cannot give up, I need more money, so I must replenish my supply and keep selling.


Product must be sold to you
I must keep selling drugs to you in order to make my money.


I'm deep down in the back streets, in the heart of Medina
I'm hidden away in dangerous parts of the city that are hard to navigate.


About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
I'm about to do something much more serious than a minor crime.


Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
I'm lurking in the shadows under the train tracks, waiting for an opportunity to strike.


So I can blast a nigga and his boys,for what?
I will shoot a man and his friends, but it's not clear why yet.


He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop
He intruded on my sales territory, causing a decline in business.


Like the crash in the Dow Jones stock
It had a significant impact, like a stock market crash.


I had a connect to cross-sales, to catch more mill's
I had a connection to sell drugs in a different area, which would make me more money.


Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
I would make more money than prostitutes selling birth control pills.


I'm in the park setting up a deal over blunt fire
I'm in the park arranging a drug deal while smoking weed.


Bum nigga sleeping on the bench, they had him wired
A homeless man was sleeping on a bench, and someone had him monitored.


Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
They overheard my conversation and found out where I live.


And how I changed a nigga name to John Doe
They also discovered that I had changed someone's name to keep them anonymous.


And while we set up camp, we got vamped
While we were preparing for the drug deal, we were attacked.


Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
I killed one of the attackers by stabbing him through the heart and breaking his teeth.


Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
The attacker was killed quickly and efficiently, like the character Bruce Lee's son played in a movie.


Blown out the frame like Pan Am Flight 103
The attacker was killed and thrown far away, like the explosion of a bombed airplane.


He got swung on, his lungs was torn
Another attacker was hit and injured, and his lungs were damaged.


A kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A drug lord made a strategic move in the drug world, but he lost an important player.


A regular on the block that played lookout
Someone who was a regular drug lookout on the street.


For playing predator with a Glock, he should have took out
He acted like a threatening predator with his gun, and should have been taken out.


There's no neighborhood rough enough
No neighbourhood is too dangerous for me to operate in.


There is no clip that's full enough
I always need more bullets to feel prepared and secure.


There's no cuffs that's tight enough
No handcuffs are hard enough to keep me detained for long.


There is no niggas that's fuck with us
No one is brave enough to mess with me or my crew.




Lyrics ยฉ Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: ROBERT F. DIGGS, GARY E. GRICE

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Most interesting comments from YouTube:

@george4125

@dj qb ๐Ÿค” but he bombed atomically, with Socrates philosophies and hypothesis..
You know he sent cats back to the lab with that one...


Man..... what about โ€œGuillotineโ€ on the Purple Tape?
โ€œAbove the Cloudsโ€ with GURU..
Deck is nice.

His entire album was a remake cause RZA crib got flooded with his original tapes..
Word is it was classic...



@rasungod7257

[Verse 1: GZA]
It was the night before New Yearโ€™s
And all through the fuckin' projects
Not a handgun was silent, not even a TEC
Outsiders were stuck, by enemies who put fear
And blasted on the spot before the pigs were there
You know hoods, robbers, snipers new in sight
Fuck blue and white
They escape before them flash the fuckin' lights
Gunshots shatter first-floor window panes
Shells hit the ground and blood stained the dice game
Whether pro-calisthenic, any style you set it
Beat niggas toothless, physically cut up like gooses
But with iron on the sides, thugs took no excuses
Therefore, your fifty-two handblocks was useless
Linx was snatched off necks, left scars on throats
Jackets took, after bullet rips through coats
Against those who felt the cold from the steel
Made โ€˜em fold and squeal, once the metal hit the temple of his grill
Construction worker, who was caught for his bomber
No time to swing the hammer that was hangin' from his farmers
And itโ€™s bugged how some niggas catch slugs
And pockets dug from everythin' except check stubs
And it does, sound ill like wars in Brownsville
Or fatal robberies in Red Hook where feds look
For fugitives to shoot cops, niggas layin' on roof tops
For his C.R.E.A.M he stashed in a shoebox
But he was hot, and the strip was filled with young killers
You donโ€™t suspect, so cops creep like caterpillars
And born thieves stay hooded with extra bullets
Those who try to flee, they hit the vertebrae
Increase the murder rate
Similar to hitmen who pull out TECs and then
Drop those who crack like tacos from Mexican
Rapid, like recipients cashin' checks again
Back to the motherfuckin' spot on Lexington

[Chorus: Life]
Babies cryin', brothers dyin', and brothers gettin' knocked
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world
We be runnin' from the cops, bustin' off shots
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world

Verse 2: Inspectah Deck]
Yo, no time to freeze, undercovers ease up in Grand Prixs
And seize packages and pocket the currency
Cliques control strips, full clips are sprayed
Yellow tape barricades sidewalks where bodies lay
Madness strikes at twelve oโ€™clock midnight
Stick-up kids on the ground broke the staircase light
And I stays harassed, scramblin' for petty cash
Jakes on my ass, young bucks is learnin' fast
Three-Fifteen-Sevens and Forty-Fours
Bought inside corner stores, provide sparks for wars
Hospital floors surrounded by the law
Homicide questionin' while the Jakes guard the door
My hood stay tense, loyalty puts strength in my team
โ€˜Cause niggasโ€™ main concern is C.R.E.A.M
Some niggas in the jet-black Galant
Shot up the Chinese restaurant for this kid named Lamont
I thought he was dead, but instead, he missed the kid
And hit a twelve-year-old girl in the head, and then fled
Tactical narcotic task force, back off fast
โ€˜Cause the crime boss is passin' off cash
Extortions for portions of streets, causes beef
Havin' followers of Indians trying to play Chief
You witness the saga, casualties and drama
Life is a script; Iโ€™m not an actor
But the author of a modern-day opera
Where the main character is presidential papers, the dominant factor


[Bridge: Life]
You know, you had me
With your sensuous charm
But you looked so alarmed
As I walked on by

[Chorus: Life]
Babies cryin', brothers dyin', and brothers gettin' knocked
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world
We be runnin' from the cops, bustin' off shots
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world
Babies cryin', brothers dyin', and brothers gettin' knocked
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world
We be runnin' from the cops, bustin' off shots
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world



All comments from YouTube:

@davidlopez1820

Doubt we will ever witness another group like the Wu. They are the best to ever do it.

@illmanneredfilms9852

LOOK UP GZA VS JACKPOT..

@officialhb4794

Can you check out my beats and songs and tell me what you think. I appreciate it

@Chyrsomellus

Check out Boot camp clik ;)

@davidlopez1820

@Lourenรงo Vigilante Love BCC, but their catalogue is not touching the Wu's...

@AYALI444

We wont

141 More Replies...

@tedvandekamp6432

My favorite track from Liquid Swords. Perfect song for a windy, rainy day.

@officialhb4794

Can you check out my beats and songs and tell me what you think. I appreciate it

@fdation

You get it that's why you put it in that perspective.I'm right there with you but the masses are dumbed down.

@danielbuezo9910

Perfect sing for hitting a lick on some sucka round the corner

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