(feat. Saukrates)



"The-the Ultimate MC, what?"



[Rock]

Ha, Al Catraz, who that, some call him Rock

Yo, one shot'll make you Jump like House of Pain or Kriss Kross

Playin hopscotch, I got the mach' baby

Even when I was small, I still hit crazy hard like a 3-80

And I hate these fakin MC's, please

Flee or your temperature drop more degrees

Then a five presenter dressed in a young ass jacket

In the winter, wit no independent casket for this rap shit



[Ruck]

Behold the pale horse, I see death in your future

Wit thoughts connect, it's best to step 'fore I shoot ya

Back in the days, I knew Ruck would Ruck

Couldn't wait that long so I jacked Michael J. Fox

Since the death of the Delorian, I been best performin in

Coliseum and stadiums, holdin the war palladiums

Ain't no funny vibe from this 25 year old

Ultimate MC, test me if you hold



"The-the Ultimate MC, what?" [x4]

"The-the Ultimate"



[Saukrates]

Chemistratin street ruckus wit my nouns and verbs

Hated the real muthafuckas wit a thirst for words

Meditate wit me dude, alone in my own zone

Come and get high, my shit's homegrown

Bionic, hydroponics, I rap til I'm blue like Sonic

Deliveries, monotonic, but my style's octophonic

I hate to say, but you weak and your styles prosaic, man

If rhymin was fightin, I be Tyson

And all ya niggas better think, cuz right now ya runnin wit sphinx

Cuz you're weak son, I take my time to teach one

Of the meet one's, or reach one

Illamatic rap addict, on some death of Caesar dramatics

It's never fluke yo, so don't panic

You can go to any other planet, and any weather you can run

But can't run forever, so whatever



"The-the Ultimate MC, what?" [x4]

"The-the Ultimate"



[Saukrates]

(Feelin it, ya niggas give a peep, in my manuscript)

I'm the muthafuckin pimp, the microphone is my b-i-itch

And you the John about to make a nigga r-i-ich

Now get wit this, funk arithmetic

If you outside make a sw-i-itch, and step inside the ab-y-yss

Nigga come ill, don't tr-i-ip, say it again

You the John about to make this nigga r-i-ich

Man, my finger pump it, hard to res-i-ist

Find you nitch, nigga, hold that, my trigga finger start to i-i-itch

(Diggin your ditch) Yea I'm on the mound wit a butane fireball

Better duck the wild p-i-itch, I'm sick wit it

You will never fly, you're a ostr-i-ich

Uh, be on ya back like a rash, I'm the i-i-ish

Bank is, bank is closed, for my skrilla for the n-n-ni, rip-rip it



"The-the Ultimate MC, what?" [x4]

"The-the Ultimate"