Slipping Into Darkness

The AlchemistThe Alchemist 

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The Alchemist

Alan Daniel Maman (born October 25, 1977), better known as The Alchemist, is an American hip hop producer, DJ and rapper, who hails from Beverly Hills, California. After rising to prominence in the late 1990s as a close associate of Dilated Peoples and Mobb Deep, he went on to produce for many of hip hop's leading artists in the 2000s, and has been hailed as one of the genre's leading producers. He is currently working as a DJ with Eminem and is also signed to his label Shady Records. His earlier nickname was "Mudfoot", in the times of The Whooliganz. more »

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Artists livin' comfortably, yeah
Yeah, let me fly 

Never seen before, or heard in this fashion, convert the work to magic
Bury a beat six-feet, pour dirt in the casket
Hard to imitate, I'm cut from a certain fabric 
My shirt and slacks, thirty racks, plus the fur jacket, no turnin' backwards (no turnin' back)
Forward motion, I pour mimosas, got me more in focus (yup)
Got my foot inside the door, then tore it open
Now we goin' dumb, throwin' money, I'm from the Sunshine State (yes)
When I eat, I need a plus-size plate
The main event is this, my jewelry look like the Great Adventure Slick
Promote this pain, a stencil on the brick, with my insignia
You made a little splash in the wavepool, I'm even drippier (More)
Shoot out the lights, I'm puttin' fifty up
Then hang my jersey in the rafters, right next to Hit 
Hoppin' out the Trans Am, flexin' the fit (see me?)
F*ck all the talk, just cut the check and split (f*ck outta here)
Floor seats while I'm sippin', my pina colada was drippin' on my Pippen 
But I never get to slippin' into darkness (dark)

You never catch me slippin' into darkness (dark)
Never catch me slippin' (never)

Alchemist over a Hit-Boy beat, Hit-Boy over a Alchemist beat
Let's do it

I'm not for everybody, but I am who I am
I am what I am, no back and forth, no Martin and Pam
TSA gotta check my wrist, and all they can say is "Damn"
When you move how you wanna move, you gon' make somebody mad
My nigga, I'm the best student Kanye ever had
Fell out with certain niggas fast, 'cause I put shit on blast
That's how you smother out the nonsense, I'm hungry as a hostage
They hit with me the blockage, but I made it out the gauntlet
Took short but long trips, what I know for sure is this
Niggas'll backstab you way quicker than they'll stab for you
And that might be more soulful than goin' to Church's after church
You cross your man, but what was it worth? 
You die with a chain, they runnin' your hearse
I guess I'm not the type of nigga you say congrats to
Still put the shit on my back and my shoulders if I have to
I'm thinkin' both of these two cities should go build my statue
Pasadena and Fontana, I brought chips back through (for the win)
They thought they knew my sound, I leveled up, I'm highly blessed
Add me on your IG, while you play this on your project steps
Two feet on the concrete, somehow niggas thought I lost my step
'Til I did them Nas projects, this time you cannot deflect (Cannot)
I am who I am, I'm never slippin' into darkness in this all-white Lamb

I'm never slippin' into darkness (never slippin', never slippin')
But they bringin' me to the darkness (darkness), look

I'm usually homeboys with producers I get compared to
But on this one, I wanna see 'em stretched out, extra legroom
I don't really know dude, he seem like a cool cat
But I never once heard Metro Boomin do boom bap
I never heard a Southside beat without a 808 in it
H.B. in drunk-driver mode, I swerve in every lane with it
I f*ck with Mustard, he can make that ratchet shit with his eyes closed
But now I'm startin' to wonder, can that nigga chop soul?
I just seen Yung Berg spoke on the wave
I should do him like Trick Trick and snatch Hit out his name
I had decoded the game, I had the coldest of days
I'm like Deebo on his cruiser, how you got no credits without co-producers?
Time to give these niggas the royal flush, no Roto-Rooter
It's Hit-Boy buckin', just so you niggas know the shooter
Jugg season, I'm in the A playin' Young Scooter
Needed to see me in broad day from the walkway
This feel like childhood summer trips, I've been a modest supplicant
They rob you for publishin', that feel like a punishment
How people I only met once, don't look like none of us?
Movin' with this wild behavior, that shit that shattered my trust
Build a million statues in my likeness
And I ain't dissin' on nobody, I ain't even write this
It came to me in a dream, they had it out for Hit (out for Hit)
So I freestyled this verse over The Alchemist (over the Alchemist)

Hit-Boy
I know it's been a while, I've been sleepin' on some gems too
But Greg Street's question of the day today is
"How do you know everything, and you ain't never did shit?
How you got all the answers, but you ain't never did nothin'?"

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