Fish - Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, Cappadonna

«These are the men who lead the crime families of America.»

«I control 26,000 men

Except for dope, we operate in all aspects of organized crime.

And if there’s

one thing I’m sure of

It’s that drugs destroy your mind and destroy your home

In the end it’ll only lead our country into ruin.»

We eat fish, toss salads and make rap ballads

The biochemical slanglord’ll throw the Arabs

In the dope fiend, vocal chords switch laser beams

My triple sevens broke the slot machines out in Queens

Grey Poupon is Revlon rap, smack pawns, swing like batons

Most my niggas smoke like Hillshire Farms

Check the gummy sole, underneath my shoe lies the tap

That attract bow-legged bitches with wide horse gaps

In steel mills I inhale smoke to blow on duns

You run errands, Primatene Mist inflated my lungs

Turn my channel, it’ll blow your whole bench off the panel

Like eighty roman candles that backfired then slammed you

Every day is like a video shoot, check this shit

I take it back to Playboy, stash guns in whips

Picture afro picks, shish kabobs and dashikis

Thousands civil marched, raised their fists in early sixties

Now check this one, you must have been stupid to miss this one

Donna shogun-ing flip a ton of fashion

Destination be the cash one, I step past one

Don’t make me blast one, I’m cold like Eskimo floe

Cappa villain stay chilling take shots of penicillin

Clean out and let the steam out, she fiend to blow out

But I’m equipped with mad white, Morris The Rat got nine lives

I’ll take a few hundred thousand dollar dives

And then I still never go down

Until the last round I shine

When RZA do his thing motherfucker, I’ma do mine

Now, where I come from cats be carrying, marrying drug money

Fuck up your wife, get four to life

Cream we handling, Midtown niggas scrambling

Move and examine the fly shit, plus quick to buy shit

Chef, yeah, you know the whole gods astral

Fidel Castro suits plus depositing cash rule

Big time, play it like Canadian wine

RZA’s divine now, the sacredness of one’s true mind

Now let’s get colorful like money green

High roller coaster, Sosa, million dollar nigga roaster

Yeah God, be having my whole steez laced

Now let’s rap a taste, connect dots, aim Glocks, train stop

Figaro fly jeweling, tri-color Cubans

Swerving with power Germans and Suburbans

Twenty-four niggas with vests on, my own restaurant

Dons sending my sons membership forms

And still getting this paper scraper

Fake gators from Jamaica, wizzes be passing like Lakers

And it be coming from Lex Louis Rich Liberace

Fetus style and block ya goals like hockey