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Saukrates - Ultimate Rush lyrics
*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 Saukrates - Ultimate Rush - http://motolyrics.com/saukrates/ultimate-rush-lyrics.html
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












