Over Wit - eLZhi

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 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