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Fisherman (feat. J Rocc & Detroit Serious) (Clean Version)

Yancey Boys

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[Hook]
Don't talk, we ain't listening
Don't need no lights, chain glistenin'
One listen you hooked, the fisherman
It's over once we apply pressure man, so
Breathe in, breathe out
Breathe in, breathe out
Breathe in, breathe out
Breathe in, breathe out
Apply the pressure man

[Verse 1: Illa J]
I rain the hits on top of the world my brain is sick
Took my dick up out this world I'm finna take a piss
My wrist is
You can see me from another galaxy
Gotta be real flashy for that to be, possible
But in my world the impossible is possible
Tell 'em like Dilla told 'em
Take you straight to the hospital
When I feel the beat with all of my soul
Fill the street with my songs
Put my feet on the road
Call it Beatles, Rubber Soul
Cause I'm stunning yea I'm stunning
I be signed I'm on the road
Are you frontin', you runnin' cause your status level low
Level zero and my blow the batters number O
And [?] got our sleeves up
Cause our whole team on flow
You just mad cause you had to put your dream on hold
Then you think how could you be so cold?
Every time you see my Delicious Vinyl team logo
Apply the pressure with my scarface, Al Pacino flow

[Hook]

[Verse 2:]
Man, I try to tell them that this ain't regular rhetoric
I'm in over aggressive, them niggas under competitive
Talking a whole lotta nothing they been discussing
As soon as I said it they serve the same purpose as sedatives
They so simple and repetitive they need to get edited
They know I'm at 'em they like "man, who let this nigga in?"
My chain glisten but mane listen
Me being here was never a lame mission
Been going against the grain since I was sending dames
And lane switching, chicken change
Moving it powerful, play my position
Everything you be itching they get it, yo listen to [?]
I got life in the palm of my hand I'm pitching the bitch
And I can't be the anecdote I'm leaving these niggas sick
Like I thought he quit? Nigga you wish, I'm on my shit
Shit, and Illa told me tell them niggas "shhh"

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Frank Nitt]
Boss man on deck
I can write raps for tracks and sign your check
I'm a pillar of respect nigga, who you gon' tell?
I deliver like Dilla got the [?] from [?]
I'm sorry you niggas fell off, view from the bleachers
And now them boys special, need more time with the teachers
Like "Please, can you teach us?"
Sit your ass down
I come from the era where we just beat up the class clown
Get in or get down, I catch you in class later
My name is Frank Nitt but you call me the curator
Muthafuckas

[Hook]

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