album cover
Gold Fish (feat. Blass 89)
Hip-Hop/Rap
Gold Fish (feat. Blass 89) was released on August 29, 2025 by LORDNMF LLC as a part of the album Goldeneye.
album cover
Release DateAugust 29, 2025
LabelLORDNMF LLC
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM162

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Puerto Rican Jerome
Puerto Rican Jerome
Rap
Blass 89
Blass 89
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Gregorio Torres III
Gregorio Torres III
Songwriter
Blasco Arturo Beltran
Blasco Arturo Beltran
Songwriter
Oscar Mauricio Martinez Jr.
Oscar Mauricio Martinez Jr.
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Panels
Panels
Producer
DeonRaps
DeonRaps
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Puerto Rican Jerome:
Woooo
Yo man, is the lechón rollin'?
You cookin' it?
When's it gonna be done?
Aight, put some gold on that shit, man.
Back the fuck up, don't get near me.
With the gold I be feelin' like Edge
'Cause I see clearly.
No matter the situation, I'm always Skeletor, runnin' away laughin'.
Have some self-respect.
Sometimes I feel like Sean Michaels,
And other times I feel like Shawn Michaels.
Ya bitch watchin', but it's gold over hoes.
And remember: if the 1s is mid, so is the pussy.
Jerome be on Fordham like the 4 train.
Blass 89:
Backflip and landed on my toes,
Marijuana is as far as the aroma goes.
Comatose—
The dick put shorty on the IV,
Voted most likely
To cure Poison Ivy.
Nothing can penetrate my skin—
Gold.
Fold Trinidad James.
Skin foes.
The right hook could turn the sanest man into a schizo.
Back up off me,
You fuckin' bimbo.
Pimp flows, tame any tempo.
It's Puerto Rican Jerome
With 89 daggers thrown
At your dome.
Get the point.
Joints raise like Simba,
I'm on the Flying Nimbus
With your bitch limber,
Log on her face yellin' "Timber!"
Fenty ripped after we dine at Denny's.
Henny lips,
Gettin' head till the sunrise.
Surprise, bitch—
My cock fills ya.
She ain't believe until the girth converted.
Ranch all over the fur burger.
My word—
Your neck green.
Just listen and I'll drop some gems for you to wear.
Respect needs to be priority.
Art forging its own business,
And all I had to do was pour more of me.
Morally, we inspire you tough guys.
Salsa playin' when I walk by.
The streets filled with her cum,
My smile pierced her soft eyes.
New York Times,
Divorce lies—
I'm on cue to bring the violins.
For now, the conga drums turned me into a leviathan.
Admire sin, embrace my flaws.
Once my ego dead, then it's curtains—
For Nicolas Cage Face/Off.
I made the loft feel like Pornhub.
The answer to hate is more love.
Amongst the table of the chosen few,
Latino heat bringing nothin' but these boulders through.
You cowards sittin' with your altered view—
I feel sorry for your mother too.
Written by: Blasco Arturo Beltran, Gregorio Torres III, Oscar Mauricio Martinez Jr.
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