[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 shogunin' 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 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, mothafucka, I'ma do mine.
[Verse 3: Raekwon]
Now, where I come from cats be carryin', marryin' drug money,
Fuck up your wife, get four to life,
Cream, we handlin', Midtown niggas scramblin',
Move and examine the fly shit, plus quick to buy shit.
Chef, yeah, you know the whole God's astral,
Fidel Castro suits, plus depositin' 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 havin' my whole steez laced,
Now let's rap a taste, connect dots, aim Glocks, train stop.
Figaro fly jewelin', tricolor Cubans,
Swervin', we'll pow with Germans in Suburbans,
Twenty-four niggas with vests on, my own restaurant,
Dons sendin' my sons membership forms
And still gettin' this paper scraper.
Fake gators from Jamaica, wizards be passin' like Lakers,
And it be comin' from Lex, Louis Rich, Liberace,
Fetus style and blockin' goals like hockey.