*The Ultimate MC Rush"      (Rock)   Hi   Alcatraz   Some call him Rock, yo   One shot'll make ya jump like House of Pain or Kriss Kross   Playing hop scotch   I got the ?marks? baby   Even when I was small I still get crazy hard like a 380   And I hate these fakin MC's   Please   Flee before your temperature drop more degrees    Than a five percenter    Dressed in a young ass jacket    In the winter boy   Don't end up in a casket for this rap shit.      (Ruck)   Behold the pale horse   I see death in your future   When thoughts connect   Its best to step before I shoot ya   Back in the days I knew Ruck would rock   Couldn't wait that long so I jacked Michael J. Fox   Since the death of the DeLorean   I been best performing in   Coliseums, and stadiums   Holdin in ?more? palladiums   Ain't no funny vibe from this 25 year old   Ultimate MC test me if ya bold      (Chorus)   The ultimate MC rush (X4)      (Saukrates)   Demonstrate on street ruckus with my nouns and verbs   Hated the real mahfuckers with the thirst for words   Meditate with me dude   Alone in my own zone   Come and get high   My shits homegrown   Bionic, hydroponics   I rap   Till I'm blue like Sonic   Delivery's monotonic   But my style rocks the phonic   I hate to say it   But you're weak and your styles prosaic   If rhyming was fighting I'd be Tyson   And all y'all niggas better flee   Cause right now you're running with Spinks   Cause you're weak son   I take my time to teach one   Of the meek ones, who reach one   Illamatic rap addict   On some death of Caesar dramatics   Its never fluke yo, so don't panic   You could go to any other planet   In any weather you could run   But can't run forever   So whatever.      Chorus X4      (Singing)   You'll admit   Y'all niggas can't compete   With my manuscript      (Saukrates)   I'm the muthafuckin pimp the microphone is my bi-i-itch   And you the john about to make a nigga ri-i-ich   Now get with this funk arithmetic   If you outside make a swi-i-itch   And step inside the aby-y-ys   Nigga come ill, don't tri-i-ip   Say it again   You the john about to make this nigga ri-i-ich   Man, my finger puppet hard to resi-i-ist   Find your niche, nigga hold that   My trigger finger starts to i-i-itch      (Singing)   Digging your ditch      (Saukrates)   I'm on the mound with butane fireball   Better duck the wild pi-i-itch   I'm sick with it   You would never fly   You an ostri-i-ich   Be on your back like a rash    I'm the i-i-ish   Bankers bank is closed   No more scrilla for the ni-i-i   ?Wi-i-ife or his kids?      Chorus X4