Over Wit

Hurry up and get your shine
You runnin outta time
When we start to unload
The whole planet unfold like Galvatron
Ya never heard of me
I’m the one they call Elzhi
Known for spittin
Blowin put a hole through the mitten
Go through your writtens
Funk that!
That ain't hittin
Change direction, let one out the chamber exit
Aim a weapon
Don’t walk away i slay pedestrians
Cripple your foot
Like Kunta Kinte for steppin
Hit you and took
Your wallet with the big faces
Yours could match with it
When my foot mash and collapse in it
Half of these niggas entertainin, signing the gayest
Claimin they hot, they prolly a large percent of the industry flamin
Make a nigga wanna pull out his old suit like eddie kane
El is back, let the confetti rain
Watch me bully these niggas out the spotlight and wrinkle they collar
To bring heat to where they sleep and turn these streets to a sauna
Smack the right facial the word’ll get around like white labels
Trip em off the stage with a mic cable til they ice ankles
If i’m at they show, i’m probably there to spit iron
Directin hollows to get in they clothes like fish fryin
(it’s over wit)
All that crap on the radio gets tired
See all them clowns is watered down like split hydrants
Now they breathin is strong
And they shakin like a fortune teller with a gun in the mouth and their eyes readin the palm
The knife’ll split it with rifles in em like siphon filter
Now frightened niggas puffin cigarettes and lightin filters
The walkin author piece
Snatch the sun out your glimpse
Snatch you off the stage and snatch every stud out your fist
Then leave your city flayed
Then hop on the current like silver surfer
Then search for the first person that really want it
Yall know better to exchange glow
You’re scared to set it off like a criminal with a dagger
Tryna sever his ankle from the tether
I brainstorm and spent many nights under the weather
Gimme mics
I shine over niggas like city lights
Til they squinty eyed and can’t capture the eclipse
Strategic like acid gas booby-trapped with mummies wrapped in great Egypt
(it’s over wit)
Wanna scrum black, you don’t want that
I punch cats
In the stomach, til they hunchback
The man, just that
I make a nigga run laps like a gun clapped in the air
With his feet geared to run fast
More bangers to kick your ear in
Make you think i’m sick when you hear it
But never confuse it with what you sick of hearin
Get that head blown just for thinkin it can’t happen
I’m a underground head singin the anthem
Yo