Ray Mysterio

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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 Become A Better Singer In Only 30 Days, With Easy Video Lessons!

Ayo (brrt)
Ayo, ayo, ayo, ayo (ayo, ayo)
Luxurious fly shit (brrt, brrt)
Ayo (ayo)

Turn Judas for them Yeezy Season 3s
The pump's in the sleeves, don't make a nigga reach
Coke look bleach, pots and forks by the sink
Busted duct tape, that shit stink (shit stink, nigga)
Same night off for a week
Off-white collab, the MAC hangin' out the Lambo Jeep (brrt)
If you slip, I better catch yo' ass
Gave you 32 real fast (real fast)
My nigga this Hall and Nash
The imperial
Everything we shoot got no serials
This fly shit through your stereos
Coke flip like Ray Mysterio (now listen)
You f*ck niggas don't hear me though
This that Fashion Avenue flow
Get it like Tuna in Blow and then we blow

(They can't do nothin' but respect us) ow
(Man, listen, we got EmpresSil) yeah
Talk to them bloodclaat, zeen? (You was already fucking up)
(Betta watch yo' head)

Look, name a rapper that's half as ill 
That can match the skill that's half as real
Niggas be sayin', "Con, you have to chill"
'Cause I be spazzin' still, I swear these sucka niggas weird
Rap is good, but I will clap 'em still and f*ck up my career (facts)
I ain't worried 'bout a jail
Don't give a f*ck about them years (uh-uh)
Wild until I get the needle or I fuckin' get the chair
You got a blicky, but you pussy niggas bust it out of fear
My shooter in fatigues
Shotty like he huntin' for a deer, yeah (boom, boom, boom)
Run down on you and fire twice
The bullet wound lookin' like a lion bite
Bullets lookin' like a half a stick of dynamite
I was buyin' guns when you other niggas was buyin' Nikes
Rhymin' like Esco in the '90s, flow raw as a line of white
I beat your favorite rapper with an iron pipe (okay)
In the winter, fly to LA, where the climate right
Fuckin' the kinda hoes you'll never f*ck in your entire life
Uh, Versace belt just to tuck the ratchet (uh-huh)
Can smell the piss on them bricks before I bust the plastic (okay)
Shooters lurkin' for you, they in fuckin' traffic (they lurkin')
They won't rest until they put you in a fuckin' casket, uh (brrt)

Had to really, really do something to get killed
Let's take it right on on, everything will be alright, y'all
You said good for what?
The streets love ain't about love, you know
Bottom line (bottom line, word up)
It's a whole different code
That, that's where the gang's at

The f*ck is that? What's that?
F*ck you talkin' 'bout?
I don't run from the bag
I know one thing for sure, you won't be seen on the album
F*ck that niceness, see, y'all be nice, you know I'm sayin' 
I'm in my fucking bag
(You gon' get loud, ah) are you dumb?
Probably ain't got no record player nowhere
So there you are, you getting the 411

 Become A Better Singer In Only 30 Days, With Easy Video Lessons!