Tag: The Alchemist

The Alchemist – “Nothing Is Freestyle” Lyrics Letra Al Chemist The Alchemist –
Intro

How hard was it for you to get the mic then, early on, as a DJ?
Artists living comfortably
Yo, yo
Just let off a couple
I am, I am still having fun, it’s been like, twenty years
My, my, uh, twenty-fourth album
And I feel just as youthful as I did when I made the first one (Let me try some shit)

Verse

It’s big unc on the checkout
Leather Stacy Adams boot when I step out
More muscle, I pull a piece of your neck out
Bake a cake and only serve it when it’s fresh out
Off the oven rack, bottom crispy like a hundred stack
Cuttin’ down oak, I’m a lumberjack
I get a thought then I move on it
Take a needle, drag it across a plate and cut a groove on it
It’s solidified, I’m gifted (You got a gift)
Password protected, the hard drive’s encrypted
I told the sample lay on the ground and then I stripped it
Sprinkle magic in the batter before I whipped it
Duck down low when the fire spark
I peel off, all you saw was a tire mark
Never knew a day off existed, I’m way off of the grid
Got over like a fat rat then slid
Inside a backpack, the Mac is hid
Flavor packages I set inside the sauce like a rack of ribs
Money trust, you dead to me if I don’t know you twenty-plus
Go in a booth wear a helmet and ride the funny bus
This is just a little freestyle to vent
Blowin’ like the AC when it seep out the vent
Hard to keep it contained, it just leaks out the pen
I spit, clear my throat and the release out the phlegm
Put pressure on a piece of coal and then squeezed out a gem
Come out the left, kings of the kitchen showed me how to chef
Try keepin’ up and you’ll be out of breath
Breathe out, breathe out, breathe out

Outro

I give you style but nothing is free
Uh
It’s on the arm but nothing is free
Get it for cheap but nothing is free
Show you the style but nothing is free

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The Alchemist feat. Larry June & Jay Worthy – “Midnight Oil” Official Video Lyrics
Intro
All you do is just make up your mind
But you gotta do something
The key to life is your attitude
Make sure you’re doin’ what you wanna do
Your goals can unfold right before your eyes
But you gotta have some priorities and all that

Verse 1: Larry June
Bought houses off the wrist (Ah)
Half a kick for the fit (Uh)
Barricades on the block (Numbers)
‘Nother nigga got— (Church)
‘Nother nigga got ten (Uh)
Squeezin’ ‘til the Glock— (Shh, good job)
Squeezin’ ‘til the Glock jam (Jam)
Niggas know I’m top tier (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Fastin’ in the mornin’ (Man)
I’m casual with my garments (Casual)
South of France, smokin’ (Smokin’)
But hold on, I got more shit (Damn)
Hold on, I got motion (Yeah)
Hold on, I don’t know him
Chill out with that bro shit (This might be the greatest escape, nigga, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, damn)
Got my feet wet when I was seventeen (Shit)
First time cruisin’ down the blade was like a movie scene (Oh)
We was rockin’ Nike tech suits in 2013 (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Twenty-thousand hangin’ out my pocket, hooker clockin’ cheese (Damn, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Used to drive to Costa Mesa twice a month, dodge the steam (Twice, yeah)
Bust a couple plays (Man), after that, head to SD (Numbers)
Hotel circle hot as fuck (Check), it’s time to switch speeds
Two 5.0’s back-to-back (Damn), it was two P’s, what’s happenin’?
Verse 2: Jay Worthy
Two hits of the numb numb juice still couldn’t knock me off the caboose (Alright, soowoo)
Don’t get it fucked up, boo (Nah)
No ho, we don’t love you
Like Pepé Le Pew, three riders in ski mask
Lookin’ like TRU, no duck, duck, goose
Just dump, dump, shoot (Doot-doot-doot)
Fuck with the fuck ‘round too, homie, this four deep deuce (Westside)
P Worthy, the reputable
Turn opps into vegetables (Remind you)
That’s just how the section rolls
The homies turn two in fours (Fours in twos, eights in nines)
Payin’ those ‘round here ain’t enough, we wanna know what set you from
Et cetera, et cetera
I do it way better, blood (Come on)
Don’t talk, better beep this ho, I was never the one (Not yet)
Only kept that bitch around for the funds, it was never for fun (Pimpin’)
All you get is some hand-me-down Uggs
Shout outs to Yambo, damn, I miss my son (Wavy Bone)
Church, like I’m the heavenly one (Heavenly one)
Countin’ hundreds in a two piece with a top hat like I’m Reverend Run

Verse 3: The Alchemist
Chasin’ the paper like it was runnin’ from me
I’m in the spot countin’ hundreds until my thumbs is bloody
That’s the only way for me to sit up comfortable like Dutch & Bumpy
I clutch a pump, dump it, and jump a country
Might be in London speakin’ bluntly
One sniff of the pure got your bitch’s nerves all twitchy and jumpy (Man, cool out, cool out)
Comin’ down the block like a slinky dink
Whisky on the rock with the pinky ring
Bucket hat with the wrinkled brim
I’m in the water where it’s sink or swim
Doin’ math on the abacus
Already made the nickel, I’m thinkin’ tin
Wavin’ flags like a matador
Already got the juice on, drinkin’ gin (Gin straight)
I’m a product of the ’70s (Yeah)
The Gottis and the Jenevis
We left bodies buried in the desert, paid off crooked cops and deputies
Without even carryin’ a weapon, cut a tongue out for talkin’ recklessly (What you say?)
On the scale, I’m too various to measure, all my soldiers, they walk in step with me (Walk)
From the trenches to the park benches
Outro
No one can escape what is getting ready to come upon us
Somebody will have to say something to have some credibility
And cornin’ those who are cornable
Everybody won’t make it in…
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