Fish

[Intro] 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 [Verse 1: Ghostface Killah] 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 Iron he'll smoke the blow on duns You run errands, Primatene Mist is afraid of 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 [Verse 2: Cappadonna] 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 Rap 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'mma do mine [Verse 3: Raekwon the Chef] 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 nigger 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 we'll pow with Germans in 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, wizards be passing like Lakers And it be coming from Lex Louis Rich Liberace Fetus style and blocking goals like hockey