| Song | Fish |
| Artist | Ghostface Killah |
| Artist | Raekwon |
| Artist | Cappadonna |
| Album | Ironman |
| Interlude- | |
| (, you know they're killers themselves,people die | |
| For them. you know, guys that i fooled with were killers themselves | |
| Want it?, how you want it? stop that!, stop that!> | |
| 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)..... | |
| Ghostface killah- | |
| We eat fish, tossed salads and make rap ballads | |
| The biochemical slang lord'll throw the arrows in the dope fiend | |
| Vocal chords switch laser beams my triple sevens | |
| Broke the slot machines out in queens, grey poupon is rebel on rap | |
| Smack on, swing like batons, most want niggas smoked like hilshire farms | |
| Check the gun we sew, 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 heroins, primatine mist is afraid of my lungs | |
| Turn my channel, it'll blow your whole bench off the panel | |
| Like 80 roman candles that backfired then slammed you | |
| Every day is like a video shoot, check this shit | |
| I take you back to playboy, stash guns and whips | |
| Picture afro, big shish-ka-bobs and daishikis | |
| 1000 civil marched blazed their fists in early sixties | |
| Cappadonna- | |
| Now check this one, you must have been stupid to miss this one | |
| 'donna shogunnin' flip a ton of fashion | |
| Destination be the cash when i step past one | |
| Don't make me blast one, i'm cold like eskimo flow | |
| Cappadonna stay chillin' 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 mother****a, i'ma do mine | |
| Raekwon- | |
| Now, where i come from cats be carryin' marryin' drug money | |
| **** up your wife, get four to life, claim we handling | |
| Midtown niggers scramblin', moving examine the fly shit | |
| Plus quick to buy shit chef, yeah, you know the whole gods | |
| Asterick, fidel castro suits plus depositin' cash rule big time | |
| Play it like canadian wine, rza 's the rhyme 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 havin' my whole steez laced | |
| Now let's wrap our tapes, connect dots | |
| Aim glocks train style, figaro fly jewel | |
| Tri-color cubans swervin we'll pow with germans in suburbans | |
| 24 niggas with vests's on, my own restaurant | |
| Dons sendin' my sons membership forms | |
| They still gettin' this paper scraper | |
| Fake haters from jamaica, wizards be passin like lakers | |
| And if you comin' from lex, lewis, rich liberace | |
| Fetus style and block your goals like hockey.... |
| Interlude | |
| , you know they' re killers themselves, people die | |
| For them. you know, guys that i fooled with were killers themselves | |
| Want it?, how you want it? stop that!, stop that! | |
| 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..... | |
| Ghostface killah | |
| We eat fish, tossed salads and make rap ballads | |
| The biochemical slang lord' ll throw the arrows in the dope fiend | |
| Vocal chords switch laser beams my triple sevens | |
| Broke the slot machines out in queens, grey poupon is rebel on rap | |
| Smack on, swing like batons, most want niggas smoked like hilshire farms | |
| Check the gun we sew, underneath my shoe lies the tap | |
| That attract bowlegged bitches with wide horse gaps | |
| In steel mills iron he' ll smoke the blow on duns | |
| You run heroins, primatine mist is afraid of my lungs | |
| Turn my channel, it' ll blow your whole bench off the panel | |
| Like 80 roman candles that backfired then slammed you | |
| Every day is like a video shoot, check this shit | |
| I take you back to playboy, stash guns and whips | |
| Picture afro, big shishkabobs and daishikis | |
| 1000 civil marched blazed their fists in early sixties | |
| Cappadonna | |
| Now check this one, you must have been stupid to miss this one | |
| ' donna shogunnin' flip a ton of fashion | |
| Destination be the cash when i step past one | |
| Don' t make me blast one, i' m cold like eskimo flow | |
| Cappadonna stay chillin' 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 hundredthousand dollar dives | |
| And then i still never go down | |
| Until the last round i shine, | |
| When rza do his thing mother a, i' ma do mine | |
| Raekwon | |
| Now, where i come from cats be carryin' marryin' drug money | |
| up your wife, get four to life, claim we handling | |
| Midtown niggers scramblin', moving examine the fly shit | |
| Plus quick to buy shit chef, yeah, you know the whole gods | |
| Asterick, fidel castro suits plus depositin' cash rule big time | |
| Play it like canadian wine, rza ' s the rhyme 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 havin' my whole steez laced | |
| Now let' s wrap our tapes, connect dots | |
| Aim glocks train style, figaro fly jewel | |
| Tricolor cubans swervin we' ll pow with germans in suburbans | |
| 24 niggas with vests' s on, my own restaurant | |
| Dons sendin' my sons membership forms | |
| They still gettin' this paper scraper | |
| Fake haters from jamaica, wizards be passin like lakers | |
| And if you comin' from lex, lewis, rich liberace | |
| Fetus style and block your goals like hockey.... |