[VERSE 1: Kid]

Open your eyes, picture this scene

A street in the ghetto, and kid named Gene

Runnin the block like Apartheid in Africa

(Yo, I got a deal, man) He was a drug trafficker

Large (large?) You should see what I mean

Yo, look in the dictionary under 'large', it says 'Gene'

(What about guns?) Man, he takes no losses

He got more guns than the allied forces

And of course his pockets are stable

His motto is: cars, money & cable

Gold cables and rings, females by the dozen

They thought he was crazy, but he wasn't

Brothers would always say: the kid don't play

Because he would have even made Dirty Harry's day

(He ain't lyin) Big Gene was alway sniffin

[sniffing sounds] And steady slippin



(Keeps on slippin, slippin, slippin)



[VERSE 2: Play]

Now on the scene with Gene was five-o

In other words: the cops had to go

Cause they would always mess up the cash, and to Gene it was bad

When they rounded up his workers, it made him so damn mad

So he would always stick his boot out

When he saw the cops comin, he'd start a shoot-out

Bullets were flyin, by-standers were tryin

To escape, mothers cryin, cause their babies was dyin

Gettin caught in crossfire, and to Gene it was funny

He used to say to himself (it's all about the money)

Whatever happens in between is really nothin

Cause the end justifies the means

So he kept on doin what he did for pay

He was slept on by another kid named Jay

Jay was poppin junk to Gene at a party

( *shot* ) Sent him home in a bodybag

Word to mother, that kid Jay was in pain

And Gene got the rep as the neighborhood Saddam Hussein

Braggin about the body he caught

But Jay's boys wasn't takin no shorts

10 g's was the price on his head

So they hired a hitman to put his head to bed

And then his head started flippin

He was slippin



[VERSE 3: Kid & Play]

Well, Kid 'N Play can preach and teach

But this ain't that kinda speech

We cared enough to write this rhyme

Cause it's punks like you who are runnin out of time

Runnin from cops, runnin from whores

Runnin to crackspots, and runnin to the liquor stores

This is just a story about Genes in the nation

How they get caught up in a bad situation

Cause everytime I turn on the news

I see a blackman gettin cuffed by blues

It's like a fight fixed, you throw a right kick

In the daytime get bashed in the head with the nitestick

Just because you wanna make the fast dough

If this was Monopoly, you wouldn't pass 'go'

And if you find yourself trippin

And you fit the description

Of Gene, you the know the routine

Sucker, you're slippi'