Conway The Machine, eLZhi - 212 lyrics

Please be advised
Nobody iller than me and 'Zhi
Last nigga thought he could fuck with me
Made him eat his pride
Keep in mind these raps I keep in mind
I don't read a rhyme
I just see them lines in my head
I'm lyrically inclined (woo)
Spray the MAC shells ate his back
Now you can see his spine stating facts
I'm on it like that until I'm seeing time
You ain't believe but you gon' see in time
I'm It Was Written Nas, you can't shine
You a gram, I'm a ki of China
When you see me, boy, you see a giant
I handle pressure like '03 LeBron and
I ain't even seen my prime
I ain't asking niggas for shit
My nigga we'll grind
How my niggas burn down your trap
And you won't see a dime
We the kind of niggas that's
Tripping and squeeze an iron
Leave a nigga lying where police'll find him
With a piece of mind missing
If a piece of mine's missing
I'ma turn this bitch to Vietnam
Nobody did it like Benny, me and slime

Listen, El's vicious
Well-wishers cause Chanel kisses
While the shellfish is being served
With lobster tail dishes
For spitting sick, they asking, "Is he well?"
After dinner
I stick a chick placenta then spin
Her like a dizzy spell
I do not miss when I jot this
I fill your storylines with
Cliffhangers and plot twists
The boy's poisonous, pesticide
I'm taking mines off top to
Let the rest divide
The chain was took or your Lexus die
So if I hopped in the Ghost
Most of y'all'll feel possessed inside
The next to blow in Mexico on my day off
Or could I be in the Santa Fe loft
I'm tryna screw you up and throw you way off
I witness credit ripoffs, temporary layoffs
And more straps than lingerie cloth
Now my house is sitting where they play golf
That's a different hole in one than
One from a stolen gun
They get you three strikes if
You ain't bowling none
I'm a product of low-income housing
Crack vials in alleyways strung out thousands
So any common man would get they
Crown snatched and what's attached
That's they diamonds ran
That's they off to selling dreams
In the promised land
I keep Franklins that's Washington
And Thomas man in my eyes you see the
Future like Nostradamus can you in the past
Don't make me turn you into black history
They lack mystery, it's wack dissing me
My nuts is too big like both
Rappers that back Mister Cee
Hand off my sack from Cognac
While I'm twisting tree
At the airport in first class, chair boarding
In the overhead's a Gucci bag
Full of rare Jordans
To rock a show and pack the
House like I was there hoarding
Shock the world’s wardens and repair
All electric chair shortages