Gold GZA

[Intro: Method Man]
Aiyo 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

[Hook 1: GZA]
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

[Verse 1: GZA]
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 preying predator with a Glock, he should have took out