17. Hiphop and slept on songs: The Essence

Song: The Essence
Artist: Alchemist
Album: 1st Infantry
Producer: The Alchemist

Links:
Link to the song (may not work on UK mobile devices):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1arOOSmokE
Lyrics from: https://genius.com/The-alchemist-the-essence-lyrics
Sample: https://www.whosampled.com/sample/14265/The-Alchemist-Jadakiss-Styles-P-Sheek-Louch-The-Essence-Cho-Yong-pil-Mool-Mang-Cho/

We all know Alchemist knows how to make a good beat and this is no different although where this sample is from was a surprise to me; shout out to Alchemist ear!

This track brings back memories of happier times; this was the time when Sheek just seemed to transform and could spit no wrong and trust me when I say I was part of the skip Sheek crew but ever since two gunz up her snapped and this track is no different!

My favourite lines:
My neck don’t freeze and my wrist don’t either
I don’t need it—I just copped a house on a Visa
And I ain’t go platinum, my first album was a teaser
Now they on my meat like ice in the freezer
Sheek Louch, I tell you that boy he’s a
Problem—I take out blackheads like a tweezer
We’ll discredit you homie and let the wolves eat you
We don’t need to dump lead at you, homie
You either in or you out of it
‘Cause I got a son now, and you fuckin’ up a lot of shit I gotta get
And I hate for this to get out of hand
To have to give it to a nigga I played wit’ in the sand
Shit, the West Coast barely know the name of our band
That’s why I spit enough heat to give a nigga a tan

Lyrics:
[Intro: Jadakiss]
AH-HA. Uh. Yeah. Know who it is. (I-I-Infantry, 1st Infantry)
Kiss of Death, motherfucker (A-A-A-A-A-Alchemist)
Definitely the strongest shit on the shelf
Double R, D-Block (1st infantry)
Yeah, what, yo, yo…

[Verse 1: Jadakiss]
Listen, the thugs need it, hoes gon’ use it
Me? I’m just a young nigga that make old music
Uh, shit is real, I put the inf on the 4
Keep it wit’ me ’cause possessions 9/10ths of the law
Here I am goin’ all out again, doin’ all that I can
Even had a daughter born outta sin
Nigga, I make pain cinematic
I spit dope and you been a addict; treat beef like jail
Summertime, somethin’ big with the scope under the winter jacket
I use the winter tactics, and I know you tryin’ to play the role
But bullets the wrong shit to interact wit’
I hurt the game, hurt ravines
Soon as you murk somethin’ these niggas’ll chirp Janine
Yeah, let ’em all cock ride, in my mansion with a bottle
Move a novel and the wall spin counter-clockwise
Might as well go on, go and see papi
‘Cause niggas only know three words: “He shot me” (Uh)
That’s why I be eyein’ ’em down
No dap, no rap ’cause these niggas be wired for sound
But I still put a hole in a goon, Jada Montega
Still put a hole in a spoon, pay the bond later
Plenty ones, plenty guns, plenty ammo
Remember this: “Calmate”, ”que te calmo” mutha-fuckas. What!
“Calamate” “que te calmo”
Know what that mean, huh? Calm down…before I calm you down!

[Styles P]
I don’t wanna talk much
You gettin’ hawked up and chopped up
Two guns up on your tour bus
Heard you got the cops wit’chu—that’s a goddamn shame
The talk on your album, I thought you had a block wit’chu?
Couple niggas to pop wit’chu—you full of shit!
And the only thing you got is a couple niggas to drop wit’chu
Waiting for a nigga…wit’ a mouth like you
When they said you was the hottest, they meant out yo’ crew
I’m the hardest in New York City
Think not? I got a Glock, Sheek Louch style, you walk wit me
You bitch niggas will die leery
I keep the 9 in the 5 Series
Why don’t you come work a 9-to-5 wit’ me?
See, the bricks moved, the stick-ups pulled
I got the killers laying flat down in pickups too
Pop up and put a clip in your mug
Hate is different than love, it spread faster—is you gettin’ me, cuz?
Shit, let me explain, my brain is on a different wave
Everybody get it now—fuck it, it’s a different day
And suck my dick when I ain’t got shit to say
Niggas think I’m dumb like I ain’t put them bricks away
Prepared for the war, anxious to kill
Bang shit, swing shit, leave you shanked in the grill
I ain’t give a fuck then or now, when or how
How many niggas die? That depend on Styles
WHAT!

(Sheek: And my nephew Alchemist…)

[Verse 3: Sheek Louch]
Ayo, I ain’t seen nothing yet
Niggas all threat—pussy when they sober, thugs when they wet
What up, killer? Nigga, please, stop frontin’
You don’t need a safe to hold 5 G’s
My neck don’t freeze and my wrist don’t either
I don’t need it—I just copped a house on a Visa
And I ain’t go platinum, my first album was a teaser
Now they on my meat like ice in the freezer
Sheek Louch, I tell you that boy he’s a
Problem—I take out blackheads like a tweezer
We’ll discredit you homie and let the wolves eat you
We don’t need to dump lead at you, homie
You either in or you out of it
‘Cause I got a son now, and you fuckin’ up a lot of shit I gotta get
And I hate for this to get out of hand
To have to give it to a nigga I played wit’ in the sand
Shit, the West Coast barely know the name of our band
That’s why I spit enough heat to give a nigga a tan
A’ight, I know you got mad cake—okay, nigga, AND?
Sheek don’t give a fuck, I let my gut hang
You one day away from lipo and a face tuck
This that D-Block, Alchemist heat rock
Yo, I’m fucked up man! P pass that blunt
Yo Busy, where my yak at, son?
Fuck that, I’m outta here
Let’s go…

(R-r-r-reppin’ ALC, you know what I’m sayin? 1st Infantry bitch (bitch bitch))

Brainthrough!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s