Saturday, 24 September 2016

Silence.

Until the new year.
Or until further notice.

No further details.






~follow the buzzards~

"I want a five-count!"



I'm thinking of a master plan.
I'm blinging, with the cash in hand.
Fear has bypassed me.
It was God's conspiracy against me to make the world worry enough to worship him.

Thanks, God.
I'll keep that in mind.

When am I going... well, I produced albums for a few people.
Especially this year.

I just need to...
I feel like I produce the best music when I'm producing for myself.
My beats require an element of truth and sacrifice.
There's no need to stunt on my beats.

You can, but you'll feel empty afterwards.

I always wanted to produce a hardcore gangsta album.
Maybe when Max B comes home we can knock out a project.
I can't wait.
Hopefully it happens soon.
Harlem needs a wave.

I'm too pathetic.

"Met her at a rave..."









~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 22 September 2016

Do not cross.

Stop.
Just stop.
You know who I'm talking to.
Not Jay.
Not Drake.
Not Ross.
And definitely not Spud or SK.

You.

Knock it off.
Knowing my worth brought you to me.
Now you're trying to milk the golden calf.

All of you are.

This is why I've gotten so detached from the public.
I am benevolent.
I give a lot.
I used to doubt to my detriment.
Now I believe, to the same detriment.

Can we just be real?
Someone's manipulation tactics got the whole world trying to defy certain universal laws.
Numerology can lead to your doom.
Like it or not.
If you're going to get into magick, you have to be absolutely honest.

And there it is.
I might take a break from blogging for a while.
Or is it a matter of...
Nevermind.
I got this thing under control.
Stay up.








~follow the buzzards~

The stitches of snitching.

Perhaps letting my spirit drift, both in my sleep and in my music, isn't a good thing.
I've been venting, both audibly and psychically, about situations I got unfortunately wrapped up in.
The songs came out dope, but now it's about cleaning up some messes I've made.
So if you have any questions about my music or the meaning(s) behind some songs, let me know.

My email address is on the side.

I thought about closing this blog not too long ago.
But I have worked so hard on it.
There's some pretty cool stuff in here, too.

As far as the war between SEGA and Nintendo, I am on the side of SEGA.
Period.
I just have a little surprise for Nintendo.
It's gonna take all of your belief and faith to carry it out.
Much like Jack Swagger from WWE.
Seeing as how rap has become so much like wrestling.

I did a song last night with this cat named Pharoah.
I think I mentioned him on here before.
He's a Jay incarnate, in that he writes in his head.

And he's actually Hov.

Something tells me that Hov is my end path.
Like, if I work with him, I might be set for life (creatively).
Something's gotta keep me busy.
I'm kinda bored, and I don't want my talent to go to waste.

I'm working on something new.
New music.
Just probably won't get released this year.
And I'm getting frustrated with this whole "deal" thing.
I have some advantages, but I'm really just shielded.

Okay, AutoCorrect. 
I guess I am shielded.
Whatever.

Be back later.









~follow the buzzards~

Tuesday, 20 September 2016

Sold soul.

I sold my soul to the hood.
I gave whatever the hood didn't take to the industry.
I wish I could love SEGA again.
Jack, forgive me.
Silver, you're never wrong.
Dilla, I love you

To the rest of SEGA, thank you.

One day we'll reunite.
I just have to clean up this mess.
I'll be okay though.

And to the people in the industry who think they have my soul, blame and thank women.
Not yourself.
It was nothing you did or said.
It's all about what I tried to do.








~follow the buzzards~

Monday, 19 September 2016

Wind blows/VocalTraining

My singing voice has evolved.
Before I was timid to sing.
See From the Desk Of... and the lack of singing on Sover Karaoke.
Then I got slightly more comfortable (eg. The Pink Lavalamp).
Then I just let my voice flow through me.

I experimented with vocal styles.
I started off really bluesy, and realized that my voice was too high to try to be a baritone.
So I started doing falsettos.
They were cool, but I wasn't trying to sound like Pharrell TOO much.
My favorite hook singer is Eminem.
He knows his voice and just goes for it.

If you were introduced to me in 2008-09, you caught me in my rock phase.
Contrary to what Jimmy believes, there was a dark side to my music back then.
You just had to listen for it.
I think Negative Zero and Ninos Del Infiere bespeak such.
I've been down, just not out about being down.

Nowadays, my hooks are more simple, and the melody is easy to catch.
My voice is strangely stronger.
I've been chain smoking, so it's truly a miracle I have the breath control I have.

The moral of this blog entry is to find your voice, and use it to the utmost potential.
The status quo would have you believe that voting is how you get your voice heard.
But if you disagree with any of the parties running, you can always write about what makes you uncomfortable.
As long as you are telling a truth based on facts and not slandering any government official, you still can make your presence felt by them by simply saying what's on your mind in a eloquent, respectful and respectable manor.
We've gotten rid of the "online trolls".
The digital world is now safe for constructive criticism of the outside world.

What will you say?












~follow the buzzards~

Subway Serious

Uplifted, but fuck with this. Just living. Much uplifted. Sucks, but shut it up. Just give it. Cut wrists and a fucked up pigment. Just in, I sipped what was dripping. Budged innocence. Tough luck Christian. Lust licked then flustered again. Dust on a hit. Puff-puff spin again. Stuck with it then. Shut up. Spit again. Mustn't give in. Just love when you're in. Trust it, because it's an element of sin. Never spend again. Residents give a grin. But is it a grin or budged innocence? Such isn't what sucks in this event. Something is fucked up if I isn't it. What seems to fuck up what I send again? Just be a cut above what I visit when I see an obscene obstruction of my innocence. Trust me. I'm fucked up when you listen in. Rust seems upstream when I duck up. Plus three. Lucky. Never stuck up. But please. My gut teases. What's love? Much needed sleep and bud puffed. It's not just a dream to me. It's occult.










~follow the buzzards~

Sunday, 18 September 2016

Why Questlove Hates Me.



One LA night, George Massa, some friends of his and myself went to Low End Theory in LA.
An underground hip-hop spot.

Not sure how underground it is now.

Anyway, Questlove was DJing.

I was cool with that.

But his set was all J Dilla.

I gritted my teeth (because NO ONE loves J Dilla more than me), but it as still cool.

He played some unreleased Dilla.
Kinda cool.

But the issue came when I heard a Players remix.
He literally made Slum Village look at Dilla like he was a tier under him.

Him being Questlove.

Instead of being in awe, I hated.
Hard.

I hated on Questlove.

Before his set was finished.
And boy, did he have some surprises.

Hearing Wiestlove playing drums over J Dilla beats is like nothing you've ever heard before.

And it shut me up.

Alas, because I am loud when I think to myself, Questlove heard me and proceeded to beat the crap out of me.

In my head.

Or was it physical?

Regardless, I have a fear... a new fear in my heart and respect for Questlove.

So right now, my top two musicians in Black music are J Dilla and Questlove.

But then I thought about he rest of The Roots.
And I realized how deeply disrespectful to them I've been.

Only recently have I been listening to their music.

But I have a good reason.
Much like John Legend and Andre 3000, they did and were doing what I always wanted to do with music.
So I avoided them at all costs, to keep from being inspired by future competition.

Then I remembered, music isn't a competition.
It's a language.
And they mastered the art of urban instrumentation/instrumentalism.

So, tonight is to The Roots.
I believe, if you can conquer my fear, that you are the roots to the Indus Tree, of which myself, J Dilla, George Massa and (of course) Jack Splash were first grounded on.

I thank you.

Now make me believe.




Shouts to Ray Angry.



~follow the buzzards~

Saturday, 17 September 2016

Stupid Dancing People



^
^
^
Things might be the same, but there's a chink in the armor of The Illuminati.
Charles Hamilton.
Does this make me The One, or The Issue?





"Father Gayle and the Priestly Nuns", before this year is out.
After this, we wait.
Until the fairytale of a retail album is released.


Check it out.












~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 15 September 2016

The Sharpshooter

So I submitted.
I now have a job.
Can't tell you where I work, but if you're in tune(d), you know.
And I like it here.
It's an added responsibility.
And it's neutral.
Not SEGA, and definitely not Nintendo.

Or is it?

Have I given in to the N by trying to make ends meet?
Only time will reveal.

I haven't stopped making music.
AT ALL.
I'm simply expanding my mind and exploring other options in maintaining through the English language.

That's all.

StarChasers, follow your dreams.
And forgive my assault on your ears/soul(s).
I just felt you all turned against me for Drake and Jay.

Two people I should probably never mention again.

Be back later.


















~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

Illusions and work.

So now NO ONE is who they say/said they are/were.
It's even harder to trust people.
Really the only one I can count on is George Massa.
Which could be a bad thing.

I feel like I gave up the fight to make everyone believe in SEGA.
I tried.
I even moved in (at one point) with potential enemies/non-believers to bring the point home. 
Now I live with family.

It is HARD AS HELL to make a Black family believe in aliens.
Considering all that we as a people have gone through, it's not the easiest sell.
But aliens were always watching.
In fact, we were slaves at one point.
We being aliens.

I read this book in 2001 about Black aliens coming to America and taking over politics.
It's only right we have, not just a Black president (of which I'm still skeptical about) AND aliens running for office.

I hope I didn't ruin either campaign.

Moving on.

I'm still awaiting word on the finished version of the retail album.
As much as I love them, my management team has been getting lax with communication.

Well, there is a season for everything.
Maybe we're getting to the end of ours.

Plenty more music, but I want to clear the marketplace of my music until I get some final word(s) on this album.

I'll be back on here later.











~follow the buzzards~

Tuesday, 13 September 2016

Dizziness

I had a great time spinning at The Bowery.
I sold it out!
So proud!
Glad to see all my family, friends, and of course StarChasers in attendance.

There's a lot to say, but I'm gonna keep this entry short.
I am clear on who my friends are.
And those who are using me can rest assured they're being used too.

With that said, new music/mixtape being played on my blog.
A project called Music Television.
Music specifically geared towards your 3rd eye.

Such is the case with most of my music.






I'll be around.












~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 8 September 2016

Alphabetical order!



Bowery Poetry Club
308 Bowery
New York, NY 10012

8:30-10 pm

And after this night,













~follow the buzzards~

Jesus'd.



You crossed me.
You led to my crucifixion.
And you still expect my love.

Well, well, well.
Here we are.
YOU are the gatekeeper to my dreams.
Should I greet you with the gift I reserved for J Dilla?
Or should I heat you with words way iller?
Either way, you're needed.

But you crossed me.
Without dribbling.

On my court.

Now, since I'm clear on your position in music (be it now or forever), I should reveal your identity.
But to do so is to violate G6-9.
And I have yet to do so.
Respect my decision.

So, mysterious blue man...

Do I not deserve a Grammy?
Or am I not "volatile" enough?





Kids, if you want a Grammy, respect the architect(s).
But there is one.
Right in front of you.
Who speaks from my soul.
Both by choice and by force.

And when we combine, we become...







The Devil.















~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 7 September 2016

Parents. Especially moms.

They don't want me to believe I'm Sonic.
It would mean I'm a greater being than I initially put myself out there to be.
So I'm medicated.

Happy?

My mind is structured.
Not chaotic.

Now am I enough?

My only fans are Shadow the Hedgehog spawns.
Literally.
Men who are inspired by Shadow (specifically hood niggas) only like him because he has a gun.
Other than that, Shadow, Silver AND Sonic are as relevant as the kids these parents try and tried to protect from their inner-subconscious.

So SEGA, your move.
It's time to unleash the beasts.
I thought I did, but apparently...

Nevermind.
It's all just the same.



Hi, Miss Porter.










~follow the buzzards~

"Shit has gotten to the point..."

I don't like to write.
I don't like people seeing me make beats.
Anymore.

As far as not writing, there's a fine line I have to walk (being in the mainstream), and not only do I not respect the line, I don't feel my content or technique is respected.
I don't do what most rappers do when they record.
And though I love witnesses to when I actually record, there's something special about making pure content on your own.

So there's that.

And my production technique got picked up on by Sha-Leik (well, I taught him). 
And I don't want to teach anyone else.
That might be what separates me from 9th.
This nigga is teaching classes on how to produce.

I already knew the following, but my uncle told me making a beat isn't producing a song.
There's just no one to produce for.
I don't want to groom you into an artist.
Like Dre, I want to use what you already have and make it more explosive.

And magical.

Shouts to Chris Young.

Macy Gray said I was one of the most talented producers she's worked with.
THAT's awesome.
I want to produce for more people, but I sample, and that eats most of the budget.
But Jesus For A Day didn't have a sample.
It was me on keys, Ninja on bass and a simple drum loop behind us.

Shouts to Ninja, man!
I miss that guy.
I saw him once in 2009 or '10. 
He lost a lot of weight and started doing more pop stuff.

Ninja was the engineer for Substance Abuse.

One album, one engineer.

I met him in my first studio session for Interscope.





"I've lived a life that's full..."










~follow the buzzards~

Control responses.

I already loved Pete Rock.
But him saying what I didn't want to about these new rappers made me love him more.
Thanks dude.

Now.
The Black Market has a lot to do with who's coming out and who's rapping.
If I go into any further details, I'm a snitch.
So I won't.
All I can say is, women have the natural ability to do the same thing.
Controlling rappers.

Such is why I was hesitant about getting into another relationship.

But Lisa is actually helping me.

I'm also hesitant to call her the one, because I've said the same thing about so many other women.

I just want love to be simple again.
Alas, such will never happen.

I'm in the studio with one of my best friends, Black the Beast (Tyrone Writht).
I might make some elektro type shit.
A.k.a. trap.

Pete Rock, in not changing my style.
I'm staying true to the Afro-rhythm.
I just want to mature as a musician.

Sounds like I gotta leave my elektro soul out of this.






Whatever.











~follow the buzzards~

Honored, humbled and hung.

I see you take me as a threat.
Such is humbling.
I find you to be a catalyst for threats upon the abstract and open-minded.

Gangsta rappers were the cause of me being bullied when I was younger.
Biggie, Jay, Pac... all them.
So when I decided to rap (admittedly before Eminem), I was going to outsmart all of them.

I kinda did.
Everyone now is trying to follow my formula.

On a personal note, I feel like management gave up on me when New York Raining didn't skyrocket to the top of the charts.

Im not pop.

I'm handsome and I have a bright mind, but I'm not pop.

More on this later.
Right now I have to make a beat.
Rather, I want to make a beat.









~follow the buzzards~

Briefly...

The game of Sonic the Hedgehog is about freeing minds from corporatism.
To be Sonic, be it literal or metaphorical, means to sacrifice yourself for the embetterment of the world at large.
Whether you believe in aliens/SEGA, or the fact that I am ACTUALLY Sonic (despite my mental health and paranoia) doesn't matter, because I already tried to help you.
You either got roboticized or you're so hurt by whatever that you don't want to believe in anything.

Instead of talking through your issues, you go to the scapegoat of it all, and virtually bully him into submission.

Which sucks.

But I can't afford to be distracted by your bafoonary.
You've got skills, but you're tainted.
And I have responded to your disses.
You either don't get it or you're choosing to bask in the sarcastic glory I've been giving you.

Regardless, I feel no pressure to see you or talk about you.
Then again, I'm in hip-hop, so I'm sure your name is gonna come up in my conversation(s).

Just show some respect.
I acknowledge my tragedy, no matter how subtle I do it.
I feel bad for you, but everyday survival as a rape victim is not easy.
So I can't always focus on you.

With that said, I went against my own need for survival to try to give you some sort of solace.
Technically, I have to.
But virtually, I can stop.

With this retail album SUPPOSEDLY dropping next year and my DJ set this Sunday, I'm just gonna continue to ignore you.
The day you speak of is not happening.
My nights are unaccounted for (by me).
So I'll just love SEGA and wish you knew enough to do the same thing.






One.











~follow the buzzards~

Tuesday, 6 September 2016

The Official









Get ready.









I am.

























~follow the buzzards~ 

Nevertendo.

Next year may see the release of my first full-length retail album, "Hamilton, Charles".
Co-produced by The Invisible Men and I.
I'm proud of the album.

But what about the passionate free music I've been giving?

Well.

I can ONLY promise you 2 new projects, fully produced by me.

And you will only receive them once I am convinced that you believe in the might of SEGA.
That means showing Scooter love.
That means acknowledging J Dilla.
That means staying clear of George Massa.
That means fearing Jack Splash.

And that means to accept the fact I am the real and true Sonic the Hedgehog (sorry, Halo).

I'm back on my pivot, bitches.

Someone requested that I spin Savannah this Sunday.
I just might do that.

I mean, women believe in SEGA.






Right?





#GiveGiveIn










~follow the buzzards~ 

Talise was an angel.



As wack as my mother could be to me at times, she was an angel.
A living, walking, breathing angel.
And I love her for the discipline she instilled in me.

I'm as disciplined as my uncle.
And she wouldn't have it any other way.
I know my mother loved me.
I just let my demons get the best of me.

Narcotics can turn you against your family.
I learned such the hard way.
So to my little cousin Ryan, clean yourself up.
Your birthday is in a few days.
You should be in a better place for yourself.
You got a lot going on in your subconscious, and I can't be there for you all the time.
You have your own demons to fight.

So fight them.

And keep the love my mother had for you in your heart.

Sometimes I believed she loved you more than she loved me.
I thought the family loved you more than they love me.
Our bond became a competition.

Well, in that sense, I might have beat you.

But I still love you.
It just might be too late to try to intervene.

Back to my mom.

It's hard not having you around.
Just looking at you is reassurance that everything would be okay.
When I look at my grandmother, all I see is you.
So I have to protect and love my grandmother the way I did you.

I'm glad you saw me perform before you passed.
I'm glad Lupe gave you a hug.
I'm glad Turn First respected you.
I want you to know that you being under a roof I was paying for with my gifts was all I ever wanted.

We're even.
Though nothing could've prepared me for losing you.

I might not stop talking about my mother.
I can't wait until the documentary drops so I can hear you speak again.

I miss you Mama the Hedgehog.
I really do.

Tell God I'm gonna rule music until he comes to get me.
Then in ruling music in Heaven.




Later, y'all.
Got some music to make.











~follow the buzzards~

SuperGhetto lyrics (2014)


(verse 1)
Back on my pivot. Gettin' posted up by some midget. Who's listening? Everybody who's 5'7" or lower already knows I'm getting a diploma in Air University (AU). You scared? Then disperse from me. Who am I dunkin' on? I treat the whole world like Kingdome and bring home a trophy for a bad broad for THEE dome of the century. She's dope and she's stoked because in sex, it's against me. Wrestling ring when in the bed, but an exceptional ring when she's in my head. But, she might not belong to me. She belongs to these two bad guys who were trying to get along with me for mad green guys. I'm not mad, but I see the green in their eyes. I'm SuperGhetto.

(hook)
I got Harlem in my backpack.
TWA.
No yak-yak back.
Alien girls screamin' "Act like that!"
Hood niggas holdin' they strap like that...
How am I alive?
I'm SuperGhetto!
How am I alive?
I'm SuperGhetto!

(verse 2)
I do favors for haters, just so I can never EVER see them niggas again later. Corporately, niggas swear their forcing me to be a force indeed. Abort it, please, because I'm a B-A-B-Y. CH-A-R need(s) to stay fly, as long as he's in the NY. Chill. My wordplay got separated from my letter play. Just like yesterday. I'm the new Ted Smooth. Meaning, I get head until my dick head's smooth. And then remix it with some old shit. Like, "You ain't missin' as long as you my old chick! But you my new chick! But a couple of minutes ago, you was my old chick! You my 'couple-of-minutes-ago' chick!" Oh shit! I'm so focused! The H-double O-D (d sound)!

(hook)
I got Harlem in my backpack.
TWA.
No yak-yak back.
Alien girls screamin' "Act like that!"
Hood niggas holdin' they strap like that...
How am I alive?
I'm SuperGhetto!
How am I alive?
I'm SuperGhetto!

(verse 3)
For those who don't need to know, or need to be reintroduced, I keep a cute little deuce-deuce somewhere tucked on me. Don't fuck with me. Don't make me have to touch my knees. I don't wanna get snuffed, so please. If you want it, please have the luxury. You don't know what could cock and blast, so SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I POP YO' ASS! See, it's nothing but a mental warfare kind of game. Till niggas get dental, then I gotta air out all floors of their frame. Now them niggas is parking lots. While my glock just sparks a lot. It's kinda funny how the "nerdy little geek" ended up keeping something -30 in the streets. Plus 22. Maybe more. Just depends on if y'all niggas fuckin' with me while I blaze the Raw (paper)


(hook)
I got Harlem in my backpack.
TWA.
No yak-yak back.
Alien girls screamin' "Act like that!"
Hood niggas holdin' they strap like that...
How am I alive?
I'm SuperGhetto!
How am I alive?
I'm SuperGhetto!





















~follow the buzzards~

Monday, 5 September 2016

Blessed Sacrament (November Tenth, 2016) lyrics

 
(hook)

Help! I've fallen in love with 666!
And ain't no way to take it back!
If you've fallen in love with 666,
I guess it's safe to say,
I got your back!


(verse 1) 

I have deep conversations with the other side. I kiss the other side. I am a different guy. In love with the shit, I am. The magic, and the shit in my hand. I have a cigarette addiction. Give me a jester, so I can give him a listen. So I can cheer the fuck up. Beers are stuck up. They hear what's up, but they ain't ready to go. Because there's weed in it. I'm deep in it, reading it. I don't see no reason to be the beginning. But I am it, dammit! No pretending. My jams are standards. And that's just the beginning. This verse is amazing. Immaculate. I have to spit. 

(hook)

Help! I've fallen in love with 666!
And ain't no way to take it back!
If you've fallen in love with 666,
I guess it's safe to say,
I got your back!


(verse 2)

 I hope to amaze with the flow that I gave. Hope you know it isn't gay. The dopest flow in the situation where I don't know too much. So, I'm getting patient. Listening impatient, too. Making moves. Lady, can you do the sacred due that I do when I say voodoo is my move? I spit like a magician. I get what these faggots send. Mad disrespect. Click-clack. Hit the deck, when I have to grip the tek (tech). Blast at niggas, only to have them grinnin' in the deck when my shit is in the deck. Nigga, no disrespect. I'm just the greatest ever. Say it. Blessings. 


(hook)

Help! I've fallen in love with 666!
And ain't no way to take it back!
If you've fallen in love with 666,
I guess it's safe to say,
I got your back!

(verse 3)

SEGA is forever, and I meant it damnit! Get a pen (pin) and cram it. Like a nigga doing damage. You gotta believe in your spit. Tolerate me when I shit. When thy spit, it's a part of my spit, too. I ain't talkin' 'bout the physical. I've inspired you, and that's what I was trying to do. Don't make me Trump and fire you. I jump the entire booth when I do my thing inside the booth, or in my ring. The ring is the bedroom. Your 3rd eye better peep it. If not, then it's not to be in secret. Hip-hop gotta believe that this deep shit is not to be kept in secret.

(hook)

Help! I've fallen in love with 666!
And ain't no way to take it back!
If you've fallen in love with 666,
I guess it's safe to say,
I got your back!















Good night, Earth.
I am not Shadow.
I am not Silver.
I am not J Dilla.

I am.

















#StH4Infinity

























~follow the buzzards~

Left, right, left.

He's coming back.
Faster than ever.
Iller than before.
Cooler than you.
And with a new companion.

Just sucks you have to wait until Charles Hamilton's retail album to get him.

If you ever get him at all...






~follow the buzzards~

Sunday, 4 September 2016

Super Sayan Prayin'

...and I've never watched an episode of Dragon Ball Z.

But yeah.
I'm going IN on 9/11.
I want to make a digital revolution in DJing.
Me and M•I•K•E•Y are the future of live music.

Special invited guest is CYoung.
I might even have a cypher.
Just depends on who comes out.

Just a quick post.
Nothing major.

SEGA is forever.



Peace.









~follow the buzzards~

Saturday, 3 September 2016

Jumping the gun.

HA!
And here I am/there I was thinking you all worshipped me!
It was all a big conspiracy!
Choose the innocent 6 to worship and isolate him from his fellowship.

I get it.

Look.
It appears as though Scooter was/is SEGA.
Which would defy my love for SEGA.
But fuck that.
I have a different vision for SEGA.
I want my legacy to be that I brought SEGA back from retro oblivion and made them Gothic.

Alas, the vast majority of SEGA IS gangsta.
It seems like almost nothing I do can make them love themselves.
Or is that a reflection of me?
Or my past self?

I literally gave my entire essence and being to them.
I have no more energy for music.
So if I fell off, it's SEGA's fault.

I now use Jack's flow, Silver's wordplay and Dilla's sound usage.
As opposed to Charles Hamilton's poetry.

SEGA itself told me I should go back to writing.
But then they complain it's too boring.
Or Beyoncé magically changes the lyrics.

If I'm supposed to be doing things to make me happy (1), why is music being such a chore?
Everyone complains about SOMETHING when it comes to my music.
I've even heard that the new music sounds TOO CLEAN!!!

Just goes to show the dynamics of my mixing, but still...




I'm gonna end it here.
I've got more to say, but this day has do seem itself worthy of my thoughts.





And my blog entries are verses, by the way.











~follow the buzzards~

Plus 2.



Apple worked very hard at avoiding it's Nintendo roots.
But... they were overtaken.
The Magical 8-Bit device dominated the elusive, yet signature Apple sound.
Now, it is up to YOU (the StarChaser) to continue to believe in the interstellar underdog.

SEGA.

Unless SEGA is the bully.

Then... will there ever be a savior?

I am still recording music.
Just not at such a hyperactive pace.
This retail album has been taking ages to release, and the powers that be (minus me) aren't in a rush to do anything.

So now, I'm looking for a studio engineering gig.
As you know, I have been mixing and mastering for almost 15 years.
I've been trained by the best, and I have my own ear as well.

Not only am I looking for an engineering gig, I'm still selling beats.
Verses too, but I have to be careful with whom I give verses to.
We have to agree on the quality and subject manner.

Back to my attempt at obliterating Nintendo.

Unless I myself am John Nintendo, I see no other block to SEGA, other than human doubt.
Being confident in Charles Hamilton has never been harder.
EVERYONE wants to be John Nintendo.

And everyone has taken the rites of passage.

Am I still The One?
Or has my sanctity been taken away through my lustful affairs/midnight manipu?

Allow time to be the decoder.








~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 2 September 2016

9th and Hov



THIS JUST IN:
Apple has revealed itself to be Nintendo.
Microsoft is still leaning on SEGA, but it's users are unsure of the existence of aliens.
In an attempt to take over the Galaxy, Apple named me, a member of SEGA its CEO.
Thus leaving fellow SEGA members to believe I am greater.

I am different.
Perhaps abstract.
Maybe more conventional.

But never against.

So now, my target is AppleTendo.

Sonic must reign.

But wait!
There's Silver!

Yikes!
The Hedgehogs have taken...

...wait.
Where are they?







To be the only one to believe.














~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 1 September 2016

Trigger-nom-etry



I got guns.
Everyone has a bullseye on their third eye.
Your 3rd Eye.
The 3rd Eye.

I've been ready.
I don't even care who else is ready.
I'm owed a lot.
Now I just gotta go for mine.

So yeah.
I'm in a mood.
And I'm going to be medicated soon, so this mood won't last.

Which could be good for you.

For me, I take all.
So yeah.
Keep me on medication.
I'm going IN-ER.
Whatever isn't mine will be.

And I offer no threats to anyone I'm working with professionally.
It's simply in your best interest to let "Hamilton, Charles" drop.

"But what do I know? I'm just a white kid!"
-Asher Roth, "Roth Boys freestyle"













~follow the buzzards~

When Swag rears its ugly head...

Brooklyn Girls was a sarcastic swag record.
It really was a curse on the one girl it was about.
She was so hardcore, she wouldn't let me cook for her.
I was... confused.
Maybe the better word was bewildered.
It was like my love was too good for her.
And I had already risked a precious relationship to be with her.

But I didn't and couldn't forget the other hardcore Brooklyn girls I've come across.

Not to mention Brooklyn is home to the most hardcore women on the planet.

I just know you can feel my resentment towards Brooklyn girls.
Not the song.
Brooklyn girls.

They can't receive love.
Or, when they do, it's from someone who is rougher than I.
This is why Idaid all women should go to J Dilla.
I'm a lot gentler than a Harlem nigga is supposed to be.

I know I get demerits for using the N word.

Whatever.

I might not spin Brooklyn Gorls on 9/11.
Then again, for New York, I just might.

Thank you to anyone who likes a song from me other than Brooklyn Girls.




I'll be around.










~follow the buzzards~