Ultimate - Remix

Ronny J, listen up

I am the one, don't weigh a ton

Don't need a gun to get respect up on the street (okay)

Under the sun, the bastard son

Will pop the Glock to feed himself and family (sheesh)

By any means, your enemies, my enemies

We wet them up like a canteen (damn)

The yellow tape surrounds the fate

Don't have a face, so now you late, open the gates (god damn)

Great, eliminate like ElimiDate (ooh)

Hey, young boy had to penetrate (ooh)

Face, young boy done caught a case (ooh)

Bang, now his mama livin' with the pain (uh)

Wait, doctor says he's gonna stay (huh?)

Let him get the Senzu Bean so he regenerate (oh)

Now a nigga harder than the head of the state (damn)

Denzel Curry is the new candidate (damn)

Ultimate, alternate, you are the opposite

Stop this shit, chop your esophagus (esophagus)

Bitches be boppin' it, bow down and pop it in

Droppin' it in her esophagus (esophagus)

She get so nasty, in public she classy

Perhaps she is able to swallow it (uh)

Girl, I can make you a star (star, ooh)

Then I put her ass on Apollo, bitch (damn)

Bitch, I am ultimate, behold my awesomeness

Narcissist, part time an arsonist (flame)

Rippin' through cartilage, I am the hardest, bitch

Wrap it up, put in sarcophagus (damn)

Dearly departed, it's done when it started

So now that I'm livin' so harmonious (harmonious)

Feelin' like Spartacus, Curry the ultimate

I am the best, there's no politics

Bitch, I'm ultimate, ultimate

Bitch, I'm...

I am the one, don't weigh a ton

Don't need a gun to get respect up on the street (okay)

Under the sun, the bastard son

Will pop the Glock to feed himself and family (sheesh)

By any means, your enemies, my enemies

We wet them up like a canteen (damn)

The yellow tape surrounds the fate

Don't have a face, so now you late, open the gates (damn)

Ultimate, infinite, flow is opium

Open the internet, photosynthesis

Put up parentheses, temporary

Very scary if I feel like Dirty Harry

Just might bust a bitch, never knew my life

But yet the question is, "Is he fake? Is he real?"

What the message is, chop a bitch nigga up

I'ma sever it when I sever shit

I kill 'em, no Kony, these niggas ain't homies

Claim you the homie, I turn into Broly

Droppin' melodic, enter the cosmic

Flow like a prophet, lyrical toxic

Flow like a foreigner, I'm the torturer

Out of South Florida, call the coroner

Killed in the corridor, I'm the overlord

Rhymes like a sorcerer, I'm an animorph

Bitch, I'm a beast

Nigga, you tell me who fuckin' with me

K to the I to the N to the G

Claim you the hottest, but I disagree

Better learn something and get a degree

This for Lord Infamous, so R.I.P

Arrivederci, bitches lookin' thirsty

Ridin' through the dirty, like it's mandatory

Ending of the story

I am the one, don't weigh a ton

Don't need a gun to get respect up on the street (okay)

Under the sun, the bastard son

Will pop the Glock to feed himself and family (sheesh)

By any means, your enemies, my enemies

We wet them up like a canteen (damn)

The yellow tape surrounds the fate

Don't have a face, so now you late, open the gates

Yeah, aye, I am the juice from the mafia 6

I will pimp slap a bitch 'cause I don't give a damn

I am the nigga that drank the hard liquor

I smoke like a hippy and I pop them xans

I am the nigga that showed you the game

How to stick to the money and get you some dough

Ain't no excuses you grinding you get it

You whippin' and flipping and stunt on these hoes

I need a moment of silence today

I killed the club, I pulled up in a Wraith

So hypnotizing, these hoes mesmerised by my diamonds

I shine and they try to throw shade

I want the throat but I'm too proud to pay

Bitch skip the talking I throw a lil' bread

She get to sucking and I just discover

The whole other meaning to price on your head

Yo, tell em bring me chain for a thousand (HOL' UP!)

Matter fact, make it fifty thousand (HOL' UP!)

I got so much sauce dripping on me

I think I'ma 'bout to change my name to a thousand island

Bitch I'm about to turn up a level

Fuckin' RnB chicks out of Coachella

Give her that dick she think I'm in love with her

Now she texting me a motherfucking four page letter

I am the one, don't weigh a ton

Don't need a gun to get respect up on the street (okay)

Under the sun, the bastard son

Will pop the Glock to feed himself and family (sheesh)

By any means, your enemies, my enemies

We wet them up like a canteen (damn)

The yellow tape surrounds the fate

Don't have a face, so now you late, open the gates