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The Genius
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1
[Intro: Method Man]
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Aiyyo Shorty, yo that's my word
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Oh, why'all smellin why'all piss now why'all think why'all gold
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Yo anybody get caught playin
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Over here, I'm returnin em that's my word that they be blasted
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Anything from two-twenty to one-forty, that's mine
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why'all need to step the fuck off
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why'all niggaz ain't crazy for real
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[Chorus: Genius]
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Yo, the fiends ain't comin fast enough
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There is no cut that's pure enough
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I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
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Product must be sold to YOU
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[Verse One: Genius]
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I'm deep down in the back streets - in the heart of Medina
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About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
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Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
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So I can blast a nigga and his boys - for what?
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He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop
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Like the crashin of Dow Jones stock
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I had to connect to cross seals, to catch more mil's
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Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
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I'm in the park, settin up a deal over blunt fire
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Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em wired
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Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
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And how I changed a nigga name to John Doe
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And while we set up camp, we got Vamp
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Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
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Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
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Blown out the frame, like Pan Am flight 103
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He got swung on, his lungs was torn, the
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kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
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A regular on the block, and played look-out
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For playing predator with a glock, he should have took out
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[Chorus:]
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No neighborhood is rough enough
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There is no clip that's full enough
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I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
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Product must be sold to YOU.. yo
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Fiends ain't comin fast enough
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There is no cut that's pure enough
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I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
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Product must be sold to YOU
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[Verse Two: Genius]
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It's mandatory that
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I supply all my troops with mega firearms
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Big apes, and spread em out like crops on a farm
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to get CREAM, sometimes they repaint the scene
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Like the last episode on gates and other niggaz
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plant bombs til the smoke from the blast becomes thick
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and flows through all they knew, he's gun sick
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His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay floors
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Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars
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Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, he's out to hurt
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For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
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His idols would lock down airports and extort
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some import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends snort
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Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
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They move keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles
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The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
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And live large and bigger than my nigga
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Who promised his moms a mansion with mad rooms
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She died, and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb
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Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors
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And still organized his crime and drug wars
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[Chorus:]
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Fiends ain't comin fast enough
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There is no cut that's full enough
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I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
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Product must be sold to YOU
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No neighborhood is rough enough
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There is no clips that's full enough
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I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
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Product must be sold to YOU
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The peers that come is tight enough
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There is no niggaz that's fuckin up
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I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
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Product must be sold, to YOU
Chet Faker - Gold (Official Music Video)
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