Sunday, 26 June 2016

Asian Pariah

So I recorded a big song.
Asian Pariah (Geisha's Warning).

Basically, in the song I'm playing the role of Super Mario.

A difficult task.

But as Super Mario, I'm watching Charles Hamilton talk about my life as Super Mario.

And Charles Hamilton has thick lips.

Whatever.

All I want to do is represent SEGA and respect Nintendo.
Nintendo is where my pain comes from.

My cousin Scooter was a big Nintendo fan.

I love SEGA though.

From the curves to the nerves.
SEGA, I'm sorry if I get on your nerves so much.
I just can't leave you alone.
You mean so much to me.

Back to the song, even though I haven't changed the subject.

My self-loathing has become a form of entertainment.
For many, including fellow artists.

Right Kanye?
Right Desiigner?

To my fans, I can't help but not like myself.
As an anarchist, being the one in charge means you have to go against what you've been blessed with.

I promise I won't go against SEGA.






I want to make a beat right now, but the lady and her daughter are preoccupying my time.

I also want to smoke some weed.

"But like I said. I refrain from the high."

I'll probably be back on here later.










~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 24 June 2016

She loves me too little...

SEGA and I have been having an affair.

And that's how I start this blog entry.

SEGA may be the female manifestation of God that I was talking about.
The sex is amazing, though psychic and fast.
The conversations are deep, yet fleeting.
She is the breeze, but to drift with her leads to her suspecting one is of no use.

But I love her.

She likes it when I belittle her.
I can't front, it does make me rather aroused to downplay my love for her.
But I wonder if she knows just how much I love her.

Can I keep her to myself now?
I love Sonic and friends.

I just don't want to share them with the world.

Chris Young pretty much summed that up.

Shouts to Azaelia Banks.
Just saying hi.

I don't think I want celebrity friends anymore.
Not that I don't love them.
They are just a lot to maintain.
Each of them have traits of a diva.

So do I.

I just prefer to stay humble.

Humility avoids humiliation.







~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 23 June 2016

Gotta make this quick...!

I want to wish Sonic the Hedgehog a happy 25th anniversary!!!
I'm only a few years older than you.
You still rock, dude!!!!!!





~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 22 June 2016

Manual Labor lyrics

At the back of the bus like Rosa. Don't wanna grow up, but I got a diploma. And I refuse to let the guy who drives this thing tell me that I can move. Or that I have to. That's my attitude. I black out on tracks, and history can view it. Nigga, we could be the movement. Just depends on if the beat with me is groovin'. Frequently, I move in the crib, letting niggas know who benefits from it. I feel so bad, because I'm feeling like a leech. Damn. Blame it on the beat. Can't really blame it on the speech, but you can blame it on the fact I'm a creep. And deep. Niggas can't hand me E. Because Ecstasy leads to famine for me.

(hook)
If you like it, DO IT! God damnit!
If you like it, DO IT! God damnit!
This is my shit, I DO IT! God damnit!
On this Doc shit... DO IT! God damnit!

Does this shit sound familiar? For real, Bruh. It's real love. I feel up a chick, and will love the chick if she stays by my side to love the shit that I can provide. But that's probably not gonna happen, since I'm stuck with rappin'. And that (I imagine) is gonna be my bride. Word to the black eye I had gotten back in the day. Poppin' shit. Or maybe I did the opposite. See, I popped a kid in his lips, and then his cousin came through and straight rocked my shit. I learned then you should leave the youth alone. But, since then, I couldn't leave the booth alone. So what I do is zone. In my home. Doom's the zone, and I end the zone. God damn!

(hook)
If you like it, DO IT! God damnit!
If you like it, DO IT! God damnit!
This is my shit, I DO IT! God damnit!
On this Doc shit... DO IT! God damnit!


Either Flea or Brian Cockerham can make the jam rock even more with the bass. So I imagine both of them. Make the beat wanna *i* them. Then rappers wanna try again. Violent is the way I come with these words and make your bitch wanna jizz in my face. Pardon me for callin' you a bitch, but the heart of me is all up in your ditch, and you started with me. Life's a bitch. I'm pointing at the sunrise while I get lifted. My blinds is the shit! Kinda reminding me of my eyes, because I need a little lift to see the beginning of this shit. Creation, outside. May I doubt time? I may not. Therefore, I gotta grind. Always on it, till the day I calm it... down.












When Razor Met Wrist, currently online.
















~follow the buzzards~

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

Summer SixSixSixteen

Props to Drake.
But I recently dissed him.
I got tired of being plagued with the thought of him taking me out of the game.

So yeah.
Props, but I shot at you.
Again.

On the mic, though.

I'm not ducking anyone's fade.

Shouts to Boe and Dre.
I'm done targeting and racially profiling you guys.
I think you guys are cool.

Rest in peace, Talise.
The world wasn't ready for you.
I dealt with you.
I took care of you.
I hope you're happy in the after life.

I'm writing this blog entry, because I'm going to go underground for a while.
Translation, expect some new music soon.

God, I've replaced you with Silver the Hedgehog.
So when I pray, it's telepathic communication between me and... Silver.
I can't say he or she, because Silver is both George Massa AND Beyonce.


Makes for a suck ass therapy session.

To bust a nut or tell the truth?
Yikes.

I love Dr. Costakis.

What's it gonna take for this mission to be completed?

I hope all those who plan on "bumrushing the sound" understand I really worked hard to enjoy the perks of what MAY come.

Whatever.

Too esoteric.





Jay, we need to talk.





























~follow the buzzards~

Samson's weakness

I am not tempted to cut my hair.
But it's been confusing those who got to know me from 2015.
I'm sure I was attractive, but I wasn't happy.
I was wearing clothes I didn't like, singing songs I didn't like, and talking out of character, though more refined.

However, I got paid.

At least the sacrifice wasn't as drastic as the ones others had to make.

But why am I worried about other artists?
All I have to do is focus on my success.

Well, VinylPop was designed for artistic freedom.
The sharing of art for resources.
The movie Pay It Forward was based on the VinylPop system.

I was kinda pissed about it when the movie came out.

Back to my hair.

As a Black man, I see my hair as a crown.
As a musician, me growing my hair is a way of saying I am capable of maintaining my inner beauty and talent, in front of you.
Strange, because I don't like performing anymore.

I will be performing soon, however.

I might be stuck performing Brooklyn Gorls forever.

Well, as long as you (the reader) are aware that I have more music than just that one song.
Then I can create in peace.






~follow the buzzards~

Saturday, 18 June 2016

A Starchaser's Inclination

What if I am Sonic the Hedgehog?
Would you hate me for denying me?
Would you love me again?
Would you understand that sex is the reason I don't believe in Sonic anymore?

See, when I have sex, I go deep into the woman.
Past her tou.
Into the bottom of her spine and beyond.
Slowly, until she provokes me.

I was provoked by a woman.
She was evil.
Dare I say, wicked.
And I drove into her depths, already doubting my essence as Sonic, but believing in tragedy and love.
When it was over, I saw the spirit of Super Sonic in her.

But was it me?

I since deemed J Dilla/Jimmy Iovine/Chris Youn to be Sonic.

In the name of music.

Sonic, I love you more than anything in this world.
It would be a pleasure to be you again.
I need you, boy!!!

Now.
As for Jack, George and Yancey (MAD shade towards J Dilla; complete with teeth sucking), I feel abandonded.
Where are you?
I love you guys.
Unconditionally.

But maybe the alignment of the stars is the liar.

I've been bonding with Jay-Z and Pharrell lately.
Intimidating, but beautiful hearts among them.
Pharrell is shy and Jay is ...like, Jay is sophisticatedly ratchet (rachit).
I love being around then.

But nothing compares to 4.

I mean, Daft Punk is pretty cool, but WE STARTED THIS SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nothing compares to us.
May the galaxy attest to our reign.

Don't fear me.
Love me.

I'll be around, but I'm disappointed.

Mr. Massa, wherever you are, keep it hood.
Mr. Splash, sleep light.
And you.
Nigga.




Every night?











~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 17 June 2016

When God said it...

...it sounded cooler than it did in one of my verses.

Some kinda already knew this, but along with my own personal experiences, my verses are based on Biblical stories.
You got a taste of such in 2013 with my Catholic Illuminati songs.

But yeah.

I'm pretty well versed in The Bible.
It's hard to turn against it.
I think God and Christianity is a temptation in and of itself.

I chose SEGA.

Such could make me look crazy.
I'm sure it already makes me look crazy.

On top of the fact, I'm mad nervous around them.

And I definitely ruin surprises.

You think Jesus was surprised when his Father told him he was going to die?





~follow the buzzards~

Worship and war ships.

Everyone needs something... or someone to believe in.
To the utmost.
The extremity of believing in someone or something is worship.

I will be the first to admit, it's difficult to believe in me.

I doubt myself.

I call my music wack, I don't groom how I'm supposed to... 
I'm a mess. 

But all my sacrifices have been for music.

The most daunting task of my life was to get people to believe in SEGA.

SEGA doubts itself.

When I make love to the goddesses, I internalize their pain and self doubt.
I don't brag about who they are or what they do.
Shit, I barely mention them.

It's already controversial.

But I love them.

I'm off topic.

I worship SEGA. Sonic, Silver, even Shadow (though Shadow is in the line of fire).

So I said a prayer today.

I asked God to show me who to worship.
As soon as I did, Satan reminded me of SEGA.
When I turned to SEGA, they pointed at me and Sonic.

It's too much to ask someone to worships me.
But if you do, may my blessings fall upon you.

Work with me.
I'm just getting over the ass whoopin Drake administered to me, Dilla's presence means I can never excel with music, and Jack keeps playing with my enotions.

Or maybe Drake is down, Dilla is inspired and Jack just wants to see me go hard.

I hope it's the latter.

People, all I ask is that you be careful who you idolize.
Eminem was up for consideration for worship, you know...









~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 15 June 2016

Analog virus

After a slight break, I'm back to recording.
I'm glad The Reaper Series caught fire the way it did.
I received a lot of love for it.

Thank you!

Now, onto more wicked matters of music.

It always happens like this.
I spend several weeks (months even) improving my beats, then when it's time to record, I can't seem to pick one.

Regardless, I'm going in.

I also decided to let this medication run its course.
I'm not fighting it anymore.
But it's also difficult to keep up with SEGA while on it.

Probably the reason I was medicated to begin with.

All I ask for is for people to believe in the existence of aliens, and that the alien race to be revered is SEGA.

There are other aliens.
Other alien races.

But SEGA is where we begin.

Alas, I'm letting science dictate my sanity.
I already don't like food.
Water is pissing me off.
Weather sucks.

Life is generally an unhappy place for me.

And let's not get into the games Service Games likes to play.

It's like a war on my sanity and belief system.

In the end, I will win.
I am the god damn prize!
But for me to win me means I have to be alone.

So SEGA, meet TWA.

An introduction several centuries in the making.

Pardon me for not being as enthusiastic as I was in the past.
I just feel you have some things you need to iron out.

I'll always love you, but for now, I have to love you from a distance.

I acknowledge the power of magick.






~follow the buzzards~

Sunday, 12 June 2016

I am not defined by my tragedy.




I am beyond the paranoia of being a rape victim.
I am above the perils of being a bullied young person.
I am stronger than heartbreak.

Let my music now and forever reflect such, as I strive to find a target of my everlasting love.








~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 10 June 2016

WAKE UP, HARLEM!!!

Or, stay sleeping.

Just depends on who you want speaking for you.

You can always speak for yourself.

I've tried to speak for you, but my approach isn't always as swag'd out as Harlem would like it to be.
But yes.
You're being bought.
I blame wonder.

Not 9th, but wonder overall.

The wonder of a minority-placed metropolis.

I just wish we could do better.
They're out to get us, you know.

I brought the gods here to even the score.
Show them some love.

And if there's room in your heart, show me some love too.




Peace.






~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 8 June 2016

Thank You, New York.

For letting me grow here.
For allowing me to find myself here.
For believing.
If you still do...

Last night was special.

I spun my modern-day records.
Some Fear the Reaper, some Chronometry,  Please Listen..., and more.
And I gave commentary.
Both as a dj AND as a magician.

You had to see it to believe.
There are pictures, though.

My homie Bred Wondah was there!
Was a pleasure to see him.

He said he wants to see me rock the mic again.
I can do it, I just feel I can say more when spinning.

I've slowed down my thinking process, and slept on some very important people..
So my mind is in recalibration.

But my bottom line remains.







SEGA.
The aliens.
Forever.









One.










~follow the buzzards~

Monday, 6 June 2016

Brand New Person lyrics

(verse 1)
I am the Anti-Christ. I am anti-writing-shit-down, so if you anti-nice, then you will anti-like this shit. And, I'm the nicest with writing shit. But damn. I ain't feel like wanting to write this shit. So now, I'm gonna recite (just) the nicest shit. To incite a riot inside your wig. Inside your lid. Inside your lips. Say my name for me.

AWESOME remains the name. Talking remains the game. All of the exclamation points made in the sand is meant for your man who STAYS in the game.

I reign like Rihanna on a bad day. So today's a "nice" day. A Glad day. Happy that they decided to keep their hating in silence, 'cause I'm lifted.

(verse 2)
I'm raising The Sun past the horizon, trying to stay silent with my violence. Binded in the kind of heat that has people riding with me. Silently, I climb in a freak. She wishes to be my wifey. For eternity.

Great.

I can't make that mistake, because music is the lake of of which I baptize my face in.

The greatest I must remain, and then some. Even without no income. Then, some wanna doubt. And then some. I give in some, then they get winded. *Reason why* is they don't believe in this guy. But I take all of their breath from their lungs. My weapon is a gun. My gun is my mind. And I blast at everyone who's behind.

Come on.

(verse 3)
The more things change, the more they have to remain.

Just so happens I black in the game.

What happens to be my name has been an 8.
May I demonstrate?
No interstate.

Driving you in, sane, then insane.
Driving you in with your sanity.
Dying within with my family.
Crying to win from the anarchy.
Denying the wind, because it can't be me.
The wind gotta be a higher prophecy.
But then again, wind return.

I have entered Winter!

The coldest season, with no believing. Perhaps when it's July, my matter of time will end up a matter of a lie. Told in passion, without no laughing.


(hook)
I feel like a brand new person.
I'm starting to feel alive.
I feel like a brand new person.
I'm starting to feel it's my time.
Yeah.











sleep.












~follow the buzzards~

"Let me explain..."

So I dropped 3-4 songs over the weekend.
Drake did too, but I like to think I'm causing gray hair in that man's head.

He's certainly led to some strokes and seizures for me.



All love, Drizzy.



Now.




My songs (as usual) need explaining.

So here we go.



"Leave Me Now (Tsip)"
...is basically an overdosage of Bombasex.
Don't know what Bombasex is?

Allow me to explain.

It is a rhythmic chant.
You're supposed to have sex during this chant.
The more you chant it, the wilder, wetter and freakier the sex is.

But it's to a rhythm.

You have to stay focused and keep on beat.

Unfortunately, my focus is always and forever SEGA.



So, I am inviting SEGA to dance the forbidden dance of Bombasex, with me, to this song.




Another unfortunate.


I found another level of Bombasex.

You'll only discover such when you're in my presence.


It's so tempting to actually POST the chant on my blog.

But if I do that, there's no reading anything else on The Internet.




The Internet, when placed as an acronym, is TI.

Maybe I'm the TI of The Internet.


lol let me leave it here.








"Boils"

...is a remix of WWE's Bray Wyatt's Titantron Music.
I basically embodied Bray Wyatt to spit these verses.
Kinda spooky, I must admit.

But I've been involving myself in Satanic/Pagan rituals.

All by myself.

Or, in the presence of those invisibly with me.


But since when have aliens been visible?

In essence, along with being the TI of The Internet, I'm the Bray Wyatt of Urban Music.

I would say music in general, but there's Prince.






And J Dilla.









"Blissful Intent"
...is my prayer to Silver the Hedgehog.
It could be OUR collective prayer to the reluctantly seductive square of existence.


If you've had a conversation with me in recent years, you'll know that Steely Dan has replaced Incubus in my favorite band-o-meter.

Steely Dan is actually a sin from Silver.

And the only way he/she/it can be forgiven is if he/she/it gives me that fat, furry white... (and then we segue into...)






"Maxim For Women"




okay. so I feel REALLY guilty about my relationship with women. it's not my fault, though. I'm straight, talented, paranoid, handsome, and girl crazy. with that said, I'd like to admit to an orgy I had with all women. 


All women.







ALL WOMEN.
















Damn, penis. You didn't even ask for it. 





But I will say this:


Women, you now have no excuse not to believe in SEGA. Because ONLY SEGA can get from me what you got. 

Then again, I was looking forward to being worshiped, so I can fuck the holy hell out of a mass majority of women.

I guess I was counting my chickens before they hatched.

First Eminem, then Pharrell, then J Dilla, then Drake, then Jay-Z.

So many males are worship-level.




So you have options, women.





And yet you shared your love with me?
















































Thank you.

Friday, 3 June 2016

Deity duty.

SEGA does exist.
Which is a specific way of saying aliens exist.
But so does God.
And Satan.

My theory is, if you now to either Satan or God, you're still acknowledging SEGA.

You'll just be directed to a different path.

So who is your master?



~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 2 June 2016

Worse Comes To Worse

I found concrete proof of SEGA being an alien race.
I just don't want to share it with you.

That's right.

I'm pulling a political Jack move.

No one will ever know the truth about SEGA, unless they come to ME for it.

And that's the bottom line, because Scorpio said so.












~follow the buzzards~

Hourglasses.

I first posted this on Starchaser Storm Watkins' page on Facebook.
Then I posted it on my Facebook page.

But no better place to do it than on my blog.







Here are the official instrumentals to Well Isn't This Awkward.

Cleverly titled, Awkwardstrumentals.







I made about 100 beats for the project.
I didn't want to go TOO ham sampling Rihanna.

Because I didn't want her to record the song "Needed Me".

Let's be clear on this, Fenty.

I didn't NEED you.
I wanted you.
B
a
d
l
y
.







To have you, I must doubt you?





Fuck outta here.





But before I let go, take a listen to the extreme detail I paid to the silhouette of your beauty.







https://drive.google.com/open?id=0Byv1mQRM6kGTSGRkaG9QU2szdEU
^
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GO!




















~follow the buzzards~

Election's erection.

I will not endorse any candidate for the presidency.
I support both Trump and The Clintons.
BUT.

I will say this.

Don't vote for Bernie Sanders.

Don't be fooled by ametuer wizardry.

You know the truth when it's in front of you.

If not, you will.





Don't vote for Bernie Sanders.













~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 1 June 2016

"This is mixtape weather!!!"

As I walked around Harlem today, I thought it would be cool to release some music.
For the universe.
But in mixtape form.

If it's not obvious by now, all my "projects" are albums.
The project was to decipher whether it was too polished to be a mixtape or too raw to be an album.

There was a third factor, but I somewhat became (or already am) that factor.

Mixtapes are, ordinarily, songs (or "freestyles") over previously licensed instrumentals.

One of these projects is a mixtape.

The other is a nod to Fabolous' 2003 release, "More Street Dreams".

A release containing both original production and material over previously licensed instrumentals.







Let's get right to it.




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https://drive.google.com/open?id=0Byv1mQRM6kGTVk5WOGp3WDR6bVU









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https://drive.google.com/open?id=0Byv1mQRM6kGTNm9Rb0EySmJ2dE0




















Download now. 
I got my bars up.










~follow the buzzards~