Ultimate Rush Lyrics - Heltah Skeltah

*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 motts 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