Brickmile To Montana

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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Ah, let's go
Ain't no fuckin' around
Benny, Uncle Al, and Boldy, nigga
BSF, nigga
Yo, uh

Somebody next, who it's gon' be? Can't make no promises (uh)
Slide in the whip with the sunroof so my dawg can hang out the top of it (brr)
Hop out in designer shit, yeah, wintertime, Burberry goggle shit
She barely cook for you, soon as she pull up on me, she beggin' to swallow it
Still gettin' better, made so much cheddar, forgot what regular problems is (damn)
Go back to the ghetto, my scars like a medal, the shots that they sendin' anonymous
Glock'll knock down a big hippopotamus, quarterback, givin' 'em audibles (uh-huh)
"This how you should do it, this how you oughta flow", negative, your shit sound horrible
Yeah, whole lotta carats, I can't see how your ho not embarrassed
And I put a bitch in a white house way before Kamala Harris
Land in Detroit, I hit up Boldy, I need some work, he got somethin' to show me
Never go broke, y'all niggas know me
I give back the whips and I give back the Rollie, ah

Thirty-six of that odee, get back gang, hundred clip in the Rovie (yeah)
Slid in that oldie, niggas is O-V, big-ass stick, we'll hit it to goalie (bah)
Still sendin' them OT (ayy), paid twenty, but spin 'em for four-three
Me and Em in the low-key
Big Glock .20, it hit like Manu Ginobli (doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
We really them ones, touch it and buff it up, Benny and Gunn
Put a one on a one and we divvy the funds
Poppin' all that killin' shit, gon' have to show me
Ayy, nigga rob me from my kid, gon' have to blow me
Rope in the Turkish, hope it was worth it
Now can't nobody be comfy or cozy (at all)
Your mommy can't go to no churches (nope), ain't no ring around the rosie
Kirkland leanin' off the stolie (brr), f*ck with me it's adios-ki
Game time, arrivederci (yeah), keep a pocket full of posies
Neighbors next door kinda cool, ones up the street kinda nosy
Catch you lackin' in the drug zone, my bullies revokin' your G pass (yeah)
Niggas had them skullies rolled up for too long
They must've forgot they was ski masks
Get him touched like a keypad, send a hundred through his G-Wagen
Slide through the kickback, spin niggas' blocks, come back, and shoot up the repass
What else?

MI to NY, we unloadin' them semi
Niggas been tied in, got a plug on them Blue Jays (them chirps)
In the last few days, served fifty-two Js (catchin' pies)
Ran over three hundred plays, missed out on two rays (we hit the spot)
Brickmile to Montana, shit ain't no fugaze (at all)
Concreatures, Black Soprano Family, we the new wave (we the mafia)
Brickmile to Montana, shit ain't no fugaze (what else?)
Concreatures, Black Soprano Family, we the new wave (227)

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