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