[Intro: Method Man]

Aiyyo Shorty, yo that's my word

Oh, y'all smellin y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
Yo anybody get caught playin
Over here, I'm returnin em that's my word that they be blasted

Anything from two-twenty to one-fourty, that's mine
Y'all ^!$$%z step the $#&@ off
Y'all ^!$$%z ain't crazy for real


[Chorus: Genius]


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 One: Genius]


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 ^!$$% and his boys - for what?
He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop

Like the crashin of Dow Jones stock
I had to connect to cross seals, to catch more mil's
Than ho-(*##$es got birth control pills

I'm in the park, settin up a deal over blunt fire
Bum ^!$$%z sleepin on the bench, they had em wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my condo

And how I changed a ^!$$% name to John Doe
And while we set up camp, we got Vamp
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his $#&@ing 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, the

kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and played look-out
For playing predator with a glock, he should have took out


[Chorus:]


No neighborhood 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

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 Two: Genius]


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 ^!$$%z
plant bombs til 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 parquay floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars

Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
His idols would lock down airports and next extort

some import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
They move keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles

The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
And live large and bigger than my ^!$$%
Who promised his moms a mansion with mad rooms

She died, and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors
And still organized crime and drug wars


[Chorus:]

The fiends ain't coming fast enough
There is no cut that's full 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

The peers that come is tight enough
There is no ^!$$%z that's $#&@ing up

I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold... to YOU