*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