Thursday, 30 November 2017

Well, that is that, and this is this...

Not much to be said.
Nothing more to do.
What I can and will say is, my existence is a TREAT.
If only in the eyes of me.

Much has been done in the name of love.
My self-righteous suicide was long in the planning.
So was my public outcry of SEGA.
I'm tired of asking.
I'm tired of being treated less than the royalty I was once treated as.
But, I do unto others as I would have others do unto me.

And I killed myself, so now there's nothing anyone can do to or for me that I haven't done for myself.

I will return (to the blog).

It's time that everyone learn how to articulate without a crutch.

You have plenty of music and online content from yours truly to keep you occupied.

Best of luck to Eminem on his "Revival" album.
I want to deny listening to it, but love always wins.

I love you, Em.

I love you, SEGA.

Pardon my lack of desire to mention individual names.
Leave it to your id to make it difficult to express love to singulars.

Oh yeah.
May Sonic live forever.

I'll be around...

~y'all just betray men; we spray men~


I was gone.
Not alive.
But I knew.
Something I knew allowed me to return.

I beat death.

Fuck anything.

Now, I need a shower and a blunt.

Whether or not it's SEGA...

~It's Charles Hamilton~

From the desk of...

If I resurrect...

Better yet...

WHEN I resurrect...

watch your step.

good bye.
for now.

~kill you~

Wednesday, 29 November 2017

"But before I jump out the window..."

"...what's your name?"

~shout it out~

"Sometimes I wish I was Common (for a day)..."

They say home is where the hate is. My dome is where fate is. I stroll where souls get Los(t) like Vegas. Seen through the eyes of rebel glasses. Pray to God that my arms reach the masses. The young smoke grass in grassless jungles. Rubber band together in cashless bundles. We wear strugglin chains, divided only hustle remains. Makin' sense of it we hustle for change. Revolution ain't a game it's another name, for life fightin. Someone to stay in they corner like Mike Tyson. Heights fightin for hits to heighten they hell. Don't he know he could only get as high as he fell? Show money becomes bail, relationships become jail. Children are unhailed. I wish love was for sale. "Behold the Pale - Horse"

got me trapped like R. Kel', I bail and it...

~time waits for no one.~

Tuesday, 28 November 2017

3AM @ 30

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago, 
   In a kingdom by the sea, 
That a maiden there lived whom you may know 
   By the name of Annabel Lee; 
And this maiden she lived with no other thought 
   Than to love and be loved by me. 

I was a child and she was a child, 
   In this kingdom by the sea, 
But we loved with a love that was more than love— 
   I and my Annabel Lee— 
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven 
   Coveted her and me. 

And this was the reason that, long ago, 
   In this kingdom by the sea, 
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling 
   My beautiful Annabel Lee; 
So that her highborn kinsmen came 
   And bore her away from me, 
To shut her up in a sepulchre 
   In this kingdom by the sea. 

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, 
   Went envying her and me— 
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, 
   In this kingdom by the sea) 
That the wind came out of the cloud by night, 
   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. 

But our love it was stronger by far than the love 
   Of those who were older than we— 
   Of many far wiser than we— 
And neither the angels in Heaven above 
   Nor the demons down under the sea 
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; 

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams 
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; 
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes 
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; 
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side 
   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, 
   In her sepulchre there by the sea— 
   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

One more day.

"Nothing's ever promised tomorrow, today..."

Hey Columbine!


~everything we dreamed of~

Suffer, life. Punt, but why?

Someone *subliminally* asked me a good (yet predictable) question on Facebook:

What would I be doing if I wasn't making myaux?


I literally just discovered the root of music!!!!!!!!!!!!

I should just delete this post NOW!


Anyway, I made a song about it.
My first job of choice would be motivational speaker.
I intended on sharing my story/testimony (as written for and from the approval of God) somehow.
But I knew I had to do something major to get people to CARE about my story.

I didn't want to USE music.
I love music to much to USE it.

I wanted to achieve somehow.

Well, school became cumbersome and I only wrote poetry/rhymes and made COMPOSITIONS on the piano.
In 2002, I decided to make music full time.

I decided to master myaux.

Music, for those with a stubborn (possibly inderseveloped) penial gland.

Still, I had to fund my operation.
So my plan was to be a journalist.

When it was time for college, I (skipping over A LOT, because I don't want to acknowledge certain people) chose the major Communications and Media Arts.

I was determined on mastering what is now referred to as The Hamilton Language.

I learned how to use FL Studio (thanks to Jom Leroy and Allen Timothe) and never looked back.
That's why I'm so much prouder of Sober Karaoke than From The Desk Of... .

I did it all by myself.

I still needed to pay for studio time.
There was no guarantee that FDA or Marcelino ("Mars", the engineer for SK and FTDO) would allow me to record for free.
But I was divinely looked out for.
I spent virtually EVERY DAY in the FDA studio, from January '06 up until I signed my deal in March of '08.

To follow *the wrap*, GRINDIN'.

It appears to me I can actually carry out my previous mission of being a motivational speaker, right now!
But, instead of being a H•A•M, I'll be a humble musician and allow The New Radicals to "push you (Jimmy I.)".

"But when the night is falling,
And you cannot find the light,
And you feel your dreams are dying,
Hold tight...
You've got the music in you!
You've got the music in you.


This world is gonna pull through!


You've got a reason to live.


We only get what we give"

Such is the StarChasers mantra, as promised in 2009.
Before "This Perfect Life".

Two days left.

Thank you, Shauni.

"Love is the drug that in thinking of..."
-Grace Jones

~last one, baby...~

"2 out of 3..."

All I want...
All I EVER wanted...
Was to be with and like my brothers.

Now, I stand alone.

I see niggas.

~shout it out~

The opposite of a winner...

Let me start like this:
I have choice words for ALL those nominated.
I have choice words for ALL responsible for the nominations.
No, I didn't vote this year.
I guess my ballot didn't get "mailed to the right address".

But yo.

I dead ass did EVERYTHING I was asked to do.
I even fucked some faggot on the side, hoping I can pre-empt the disappointment of having to fuck some ugly ass (unless they went dick-first; esoteric) industry nigga.


Idk, y'all.
Despite "who I am", I am not "The One".

So I'll just say... 
congrats to those nominated and may the best artist win.

Admittedly, there are some good picks.
I'm happy for Cardi B, (grits teeth, swallows pride, etc.) Jay made a classic and NoID "broke new grounds with his production on "4:44".

Thairt is.

  1. Do not give opinions or advice unless you are asked.
The first rule in The Eleven Satanic Rules of Earth.

I think you Illuminati niggas just like fuckin with me.
Like... you put me in this position, give me no sense of direction, and RIGHT when I'm comfortable with myself and standing in life, you design roadblocks for me to react for your own entertainment.

It's SEGA.


And J Dilla is your new leader.

This happens every year, however.
Why am I surprised?

Coffee or beer this morning?

~gimme that~

Sunday, 26 November 2017

Mood swings

I been told y'all this is not a game to me.
People want me to "lighten up."
"Go back to the old me."

This is wild.
The more and better I get in tune/touch with myself, the less people like or want to like me.
Whether Cleveland or Harlem, self-esteem is an ISSUE.
And now I'm boosting mine.
But what I can say about my "previous conceit" is, I know what I am capable of.
And very few can mirror such.

I'm willing to scrap for my position in music.
Then again, I have to be willing to accept criticism.
So... I haven't been releasing that much music.
At the same time, I've been recording A LOT.
And the A LOT is my best music, so far.

I used to get teased for being intelligent in school.
Now, I'm using my intelligence as a weapon.
And magic as a Libra scale of temperance.

Like THAT, y'all.
C'mone! C'mone!

~shout it out~

Saturday, 25 November 2017


"Roger, this could be a bootleg..."

I miss y'all.
So much.
But... I'm maintaining.
Just wish you were with me again.

I am The Thot of SEGA.

Scorpio the Scorpion.

The creature that told Eve to eat the apple.
God took my legs, so I'm a snake.


~shout it out~

Pitbulls and chivalry

Pitbulls intimidate with their looks.
But they are very loving.
And sensitive.
However, men put them through so much trauma, their killer instinct overwhelms them.
And they become the bulls of the bottomless pit.

Pitbulls talk.
They have a unique way of communicating with each other.
Which is why dog fights are so foul.
It's like Naruto.

And no, I don't watch Naruto.
My cousin Spazzo had me playing the game.

Anyway, because of the human legacy of pitbull abuse, any and everyone can get it.
Despite how much love you give them.
A warning to ladies.

I long considered myself a Pekingese.
Loyal and evil.
Defensive and protective.
Nevertheless, these last 10 years have forced me to shake it like a red nose.
I've been in relationships where my love and affection, though apparent, were the catalyst of a potential murder.
Lack of trust, sure. 
But everyone has something to gain.
No matter how broke I am, I am still the gatekeeper to The Root Of All Evil.


So, no one should trust me and I can trust no one.

I want to change that.
Love is a potent drug of which I can't detox from (hint).
I want to give and receive unconditional love.
This is the type of shit to make me fall in love with God again.
Satan, if I'm not you, I already know you hate me.
I'm on your turf.
And SEGA, nothing can be done to repay me.
Just give me what I want.
It doesn't have to be what I gave you.
In fact, you already do it.

Granted without my permission.


Being The Pitbull of Cupid will cost me one day.
As a matter (...), it's costing me now.

I love pitbulls.
They are the dog form of Scorpio the Scorpion.

It's like that, y'all...
And ya downt stahp...

~shout it out~


If *they* left, they could've walked past me slowly.
Switching their hips.
If *they* didn't leave, they could AT LEAST walk past me slowly.
Switching their hips.
Or, just switch.

With the above being stated, "Happy 9th Birthday! Pt. 3: Nicki Minaj Goes To London" was an Awkward.
Crazy how Awkward is a genre (of mine) now!

Before I go into detail, an Awkward is an album in movie form.
Think "American Gangster", without a reference movie.

In other words, the movie doesn't exist.
It's all creation.

Get it, Rihanna?

So... there was an intro ("Drug Motivation 101"), a plot ("Ken Shamrock's Ankle Lock") and.. yes, two alternative endings ("Actually Being Alone With Nicki Minaj" and "Nicki Needs A Bad Boy").

Maybe she heard it.
Maybe that's why she was with Meek.
And I have heard similarities in our lyrical content.
Not to mention, PINK!

So, maybe there's something...
In the meantime, I can't accept that SEGA DIDNT leave and am making adjustments to life on Earth.

Miss you, Issue.
Holla around.

It's like THAT, y'all.
And ya downt stahp!

~shout it out~

Friday, 24 November 2017

Buckets of patience

Jimmy and ANY OF YOU should be in AWE at this blog entry's title.

I Hate Trouble is my best album since StH: ZERO.
"Check it oowwwwwwt!" (Paul McCartney voice)

It's like this, y'all.
I'm too nice of a guy to be Satan.
I WANT AND NEED to be Sonic T. Hedgehog (Sonic Boom reference).
It's not like I can't handle my opponent (YOU ALL) being leagues under the sea of lava.
It's just... I'd get off my thrown, put down my pitchfork and (a) try to fuck a suffering female mortal or (b) ask a suffering male to light me up.

Potheads feel me.

If SEGA strips me of being Sonic (AGAIN), then...

I just want to be myself.
Human, alien, mortal, an immortal, whatever.
I don't want to be "the second coming of" or "a prophet".

I want to be the best, truest, ONLYest Charles Hamilton.
Fuck that "it's a common name" bullshit.
Y'all know me.
I don't want you to.
That's how I know you know me.

My mastering of AMIJ2 is not done yet.
Dr. Dre, Greg Lawrence, Jimmy Douglass...
"Ima be on yo ass, boy!"

Sonically, this album WILL NOT BE TOUCHED.

I'm hungry again.
Should've stayed at my auntie's house.

At least I'll be here in 2018.

I'm working towards it.


My dreams of being Superdad are miraculously waking me up every day.

Hear that, Daughterlips and Son Dunna?!
I wake up for y'all.
Stay out of jail and the abortion clinic and Dad's gonna let you get away with being...


Fuck that shit.
I don't want that to be your fate.
Shit, I don't want it to be MY fate.


Just CH.

Children, honor your mother.
I might've impregnated THE ENTIRE BUNNY RANCH in 2011, but YOU know your mother is a queen.
Dad's just trying to be your friend.
I'll find away to punish.
But, with the kind of bond we have (sons and daughters), I might not have to Joe Jackson you niggas.

Alas, this all could be a dream.

(Watch me make Beyoncé sleepy...)

No use for protection.
There's another music selection?

(insert Bey's fatigue __________)

Lights out, critters!

~shout it out~

Thursday, 23 November 2017

Shrimp w/ broccoli

What's beef?
Beef is when I ask for a warm place to sleep,
Get invited to a blunt full of Sour D.,
And get told something that puts me in grief.
So, shit is deep.

(so mote it be)

Dedicated to Overton (sub).
KNOW what I'm about, nigga.

Recorded at Overton's house.
A room away.
ABOUT my relationship with God, Satan and ... Ms. Greene, I think her name is.

WHILE verbally ASSAULTING Overton and Kyle.

"For playing me, y'all shall forever remain nameless..."
Unless I cop that stainless.
Then you'll be BRAINLESS and nameless.

I'm done trying to hurt myself.
SOMEONE... SOMEBODY... is gon get this work.

Like THAT, y'all.
And ya downt stahp!

~shout it out~

Ask Jeeves official lyrics

My best friend questions my best friend mentality. Because of my sin, Him wanna battle me. But, then again, i don't want to come after He. Because he's kinda like... HI. And I('m) the guy He would be reacHIng, wHEn speaKING through BEATS(s). Too many friends that can make beats, so I guess tHIs would be HIStory for H3. The generation after WE. "How could I clash with HE?!" DAMN! As HE grabs tHE *HEat* to blast me, I ask he if he understands what he has done to ME. Made me a bigger beast than ME. "Then," The Industry wish to be IN me. THEN I BLAME HIM! THEN I NAME HIM THE REASON WHY "I'M TAKING OVER!" like Centipede.

Is there something I do not know?
Is something (here) taking control?
Is there something you'd like to show?
Is there something that I... don't... no?

I apologIze for separating your family, but LET'S get it together, forever. No segregation. No messing with medication to understand He. And you are He. Between U&I, we rule the sky. Not Ja Rule and A-shan-ti! But I rap like an Asian guy. Sometimes with my eyes slanted. 'Cause I can't stand SHIT! Mad high, trying to make sense. A Black guy trying to straddle the fence. Battling cats who have any sense. If they dont have it, I PASS IT! NOW THEY HAVE SENSE! But the *sense (cents; keep it real)*... and *SCENTS* of SENTENCES... can get bent. And I ain't tryna *get bent* with them, so let's just "get it in" with tracks again.

Is there something I do not know?
Is something (here) taking control?
Is there something you'd like to show?
Is there something that I... don't... no?

Happy Thanksgiving, 2Z!
Rise In Positivity, Sheree.
Hey, Anniya!

I'm out.

~shout it out~ 

Charlie And The Chocolate Factory official lyrics (and explanation)

Charles Hamilton. Back with another one. Y'all know I get *it* poppin' like bubblegum. Gonna start some trouble, 'cause I'm troublesome. You can hate me, but I know you love it son. My pink polo and matching kicks. My blazer. Amazing. I have to get so fly like I'm "rollin' with the baddest bitch". The immaculate. So I have to spit. Imagine chicks tryna grab my *dick*, 'cause I keep comin' (cummin'...) out with hit, after hit. And... I don't need a gun. Why? TI, know. But I got love for TI, though. There's a lot of DRAMA when there's niggas in your BI, yo. This shit'll make a punk turn to GI Joe. Rap is a farm. EI-EI-O. So many *chickens* say they wanna be my *hoe*. But I'ma just chill, while you have a *cow*. Y'all know me, no backin' down... ask around. Britney Spears when I'm Black(ing) Out. You savage how? I ain't know they made savage clowns. You ain't mean. You average. Wow. 'Cause what you say don't add up or match your style. So I'm laughing, now. LMAO. "Ayo!" like "Technology! Acknowledge me!" Funky like old collard greens with 8-day-old mayo. Yo HchO. I feel like Raisin' Hell (sigh), so *they* can tell I'm the greatest. Well, the second greatest. Pac is Richard Pryor, so I'm Dave Chappelle.

But this joint here ain't funny.
Ain't no Comedy *Central*.
The info: "Charlie got a sick flow!"
Spit fast or spit slow,
Either way *the kid* go,


Y'all know my REAL name.
I spit them REAL flames.
A lot of haters are hatin, but they some real lames.
Y'all hope I will change.
But this is REAL ~strange~.

You stuck in my factory!

That's why I'm sayin' "AYO!"
The studio is my factory.
So, can't none of y'all come fuck with me.
I'll school you like I'm the faculty.
So, detention time, you're stuck with me.
Shout out Sha-leik from The Faculty.
(that's the name of my production team)
So, "Welcome to The Hit Factory (?)!"
Go ahead and try your luck with me!


Charles Hamilton (using my name in common conversation has it's FISCAL pluses and SOCIAL minuses; I used it as A BAR). Back with another one. Y'all know I get *it* poppin' like bubblegum (I control Shadow the Hedgehog, and pretty much any living thing, through possession). Gonna start some trouble, 'cause I'm troublesome (a reference to how Harlem girls get ready to fight; they pop their bubble/chewing gum, hoping "a bitch" would "pop" on them). You can hate me, but I know you love it son. My pink polo and matching kicks. My blazer. Amazing (a reference to the future, yet consistent biting of Kanye and the presence of Simone "Dr. Dre" Marshall; the OPPOSITE of Sasheer "Timbaland" Zamata, of whom made the beat). I have to get so fly like I'm "rollin' with the baddest bitch" (Harlem expectations of a pink wearing rapper). The immaculate (shouts to Madonna). So I have to spit. Imagine chicks tryna grab my *dick* (DOOM is an actual language; a *dick* in DOOM is facetious conversation, or "being a dick"), 'cause I keep comin' (cummin'...) out with hit, after "hit!" (when Jimmy Iovine screams out "HIT!" or "YES!", you have reached his radar and either don't need his help or he needs you). And... I don't need a gun. Why? TI, know. But I got love for TI, though. There's a lot of DRAMA when there's niggas in your BI, yo (DJ Drama snitched on TI; wrap). This shit'll make a punk turn to GI Joe. Rap is a farm. EI-EI-O (I know the code[s] to keep ALL ARTISTS, PARTICULARLY RAPPERS, in line). So many *chickens* say they wanna be my *hoe*. But I'ma just chill, while you have a *cow* (I'll be civilized and ignorant, you'll be blue collar and intelligent with the knowledge I plan to give you; also, a premonition to my battle/beef with Rhymefest). Y'all know me, no backin' down... ask around. Britney Spears when I'm Black(ing) Out (Britney Spears dropped her album "Black Out" in 2007; the cover was the focus of "Devil In A Light Pink Dress"). You savage how? (do I have to?) I ain't know they made savage clowns. You ain't mean. You average. Wow. 'Cause what you say don't add up or match your style. So I'm laughing, now. LMAO. "Ayo!" like "Technology! Acknowledge me!" Funky like old collard greens with 8-day-old mayo. Yo HchO (the left side of The Satanic Pentagram). I feel like Raisin' Hell (as old as Run-DMC, damn near LITERALLY), so *they* (sixes) can tell I'm the greatest. Well, the second greatest. (GEORGE MASSA, but...) Pac (SEGA) is Richard Pryor (THE ARCHITECT OF SATIRICAL SPOKEN WORD), so I'm Dave Chappelle (DC!).

Here's to hoping you understand.

"I have an ability..."

~shout it out~

iPhone X(XX)

Like, I know more about this song than ALL.
I honestly LOVE this song more than.... (medication kicks in)

This is a great record.
And... Dr. Chelsy Spencer and Dr. Ana Costakis will support this vent...


Shadys are first generation StarChasers.
Pay homage.



"This Perfect Life"

~start it...~

That rape shit I be talkin' about...

FEBRUARY 23rd, 1999!

Realize that Em is very paranoid about being raped by these two "thugs".
He's been talking about this for a VERY long time.
Like... this EXACT video.

Em, "we got each other, sharing the laughter and loooooooove..."

Let me know if you need anything.
...of which I can provide.

I got you, Mr. Mathers (a trigger, perhaps? NIGGA IT'S ME!!! not that *it*, but... you get it)

Holla back, Slim13!

~shout it out~

iPhone Vibe Tone

Spud Mack was there for me.
The General of ALL Goons.
However, I see my "goons" as blessings.
Spud Mack is a blessing.

And ya mans can SPIT!

You probably heard him on a few records of mine.

He's ILL.

This is an important mixtape.

Take a listen.

Thanks, Mack.
I don't ever want to put you in a position where you have to prove you're gangsta.

THAT'S a goon to a goblin.

Goblins are already dead.
Goons have lives to lead.
For a goon to ride with a goblin, you have to put up with... Hell itself.

Feel this tape.

~shout it out~

The 7 Day Theory

With 7 days left on my Clock of Immortality (life on Earth, in this lifetime), I want to say something... write something... I never thought I'd say.

I no longer plan to commit suicide on November 30th, 2017.

I reached my Nirvana (completion through completing my dharma; do your homework) in 2010, but was forced back into reality.
Such is one reason for my hostility towards "the higher-ups", "the consumer(s)" and "the fan(s)".
I've always seen my OM (Hinduism).
However, the older I got, it seemed to mortalize who I COULD be.

I internalize the things I learn.
Such could be detrimental, but it brings a new depth to my music.
Regardless, that's what I do.
Within the last 3-4 years (give or take this being the 7th year AFTER my Nirvana was reached), I took the OM (as seen below) as my curtain call.

I must die, at age 30, on the 30th day of my birth month.

In the name of music.

Below, you will see Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva.

To relate Hinduism to my radical SEGA beliefs, Brahma (the creator) is J Dilla. 
He is the creator of Neo-Soul and... what I call Dilla-Hop. 
Such a style has been OFTEN imitated, but HELL NO will it be duplicated.
YOU KNOW a Dilla-style/jacked beat when you hear it.
Brahma has 4 faces.

I (Sonic) am Vishnu. 
I drew such a conclusion by the "i" and the "u" in its name.
Vishnu is the preserver.
"I border both Heaven and Hell..."
Right there.
Apply Sonic's goal of opening and freeing minds to my hypothesis and... thairt is.

George Massa (Silver) is Shiva.
The phonetic similarity of Silver to Shiva is enough to seal the deal.
But, since many won't be satisfied with such, Shiva is the destroyer.
Horribly, as Beyonce.
WORSE, as Drake.
I am bouncing back from the rage of Shiva.

(for the record: George, if my hypothesis is correct, you were in Mortal Kombat: Ultimate)

If you notice (from the picture of "us"), we each have one of our hands raised.
In some depictions, it is our left hand (the hand of ecstasy, when touched by a 6; of which we are) that is raised.
In this depiction, it is "our" right hand.
The hand of woe, when dealing with a 6.

"...I'm next to the guy with 9 ecstasy pills, and 5 extra!"
-Eminem, "Medicine Ball"

Vishnu (me) has a statue erected in which he is extending his LEFT hand.
Such is a way of saying, "Here".

For those who are enamored in the 6 usage of "here", it means "Here's some wet, tight pussy for you to fuck. Now GET IT OVER WITH so we can continue this conversation, with a newly discovered knowledge of each other. And if it's not pussy that you want, you're either gaay or want problems I don't want to deal with..."

-Charles Hamilton, some song I was venting about YOU ALL, TO YOU ALL.

It's a sign of vulnerability.

"I digress..."
-Charles Hamilton, "Grounded For Life"

Vishnu (being me) extending the hand of ecstasy was a way of saying, "I will grant you all of your deepest wishes and desires, so long as you allow me to make MY music, MY way."

In all actuality, BEFORE TIME CAME INTO PLAY, my left hand was self-buried at the edge of The Indus Tree.
I gave WHATEVER ecstasy and wealth I could, TO SEGA, BEFORE WEALTH EXISTED.

This is when we (us 4) were "livin' in Livy".

Machiavelli reference.

Peep the entry title.

Also, check out StH2: HD.


If Vishnu could NOT make his music, his way (or her way, to you Illuminiggas), he/she/it will die, as a mortal, on it's 30th year in the future.
On the 30th day.

"Three is the magic number; ask my partner. Nah."
-J Dilla, "Climax"

Look, Madlib.
I LUVE you.

Jack, you CONFIRMED my belief in my bottom line.
SEGA forever.
Be at peace.


(cries a FUCKING river)

J Dilla died at age 32.

So 30, 2.

Music is mine, says Nujabes.

Thank you, Uncle Deezy.

"It's yours, Daddy!"

Yes, my music is me crying out for help.
No, this ain't no damn pity party.
MAYBE I need you to love me to continue to live.

Is *it* in your heart?

~shout it out~


THROUGH IT ALL, we've remained closer than brothers.
We recently had a huge loss in our collective/extended family.
Such a loss is somewhat driving a wedge between us again.
Regardless, you're my best friend, and I wish you blessings.

Happy Thanksgiving, Joshington!

And to YOU ALL, use your third eye before you eat today.
And always.


~shout it out~

At Most I'm Just 2: Forced Humility

I've been working on this sequel since I started working on the first one.
The first one was dedicated to the mysteries of existence.
It was mixed by George Llamastix Massa.
Mastered by yours truly.

I started working on the sequel, and the title was "...A Drake Ex".
An esoteric way of accusing Drake of sodomizing me (while I was sleep) in Los Angeles in 2008.
Before EITHER of us hit the mainstream.
I decided that was giving him too much attention (guilty or not) and put it on hold.

Around the release of AMIJ is when and where everything started to unravel.
It's unfair to blame Briana.
We were just "talking" around the time I started recording AMIJ.
In fact, she was on the phone during "Cosmic Hop-Scotch" (peep the CH).
It's also unfair to blame Jimmy.
Our bond is (SOMEHOW) deeper than music.
No one is to blame for my "downfall" other than my virtually OCD relationship with music.

When Jay (-Z) moved in my house in 2009 (BELIEVE IT OR NOT), things got REALLY complicated.
Be it ego or the public's "need" for a secret society based iconoclast, we bumped heads.
With love.
Hence "Family Feud".

A lot of people treated me LESSER than who I am after he got in the picture.

Then the "beef" with Sha-leik, Boe and Dre.

Then THE UNFORTUNATE beef with ?uestlove.
Same with Em (we kinda had words after the Trump verse).

Though it may appear the catalyst and root of each equation is me, the REAL nucleus of EACH of these "beefs" is rape.

Which is what an incubus does.

Not to EVER mention my two CELEBRITY succubi.

Hi, you two.

Anyway, this album is about 8 years in the making, with MORE TO COME.
I hope you enjoy it.

COULD drop today.
Depends on the demand.

Hit me up on SocialMedia.

Twitter: @charleshamilon OR @twacharlesh
Facebook: Charles Hamilton (the guy with the green hat)
Instagram: @charleshamiltonmusic OR @charleshamiltonreturns

I prefer Google+.

", 'Nigga, you ain't up on this!'"
-Kanye West, "All Falls Down"

Use your indoor voices.

~shout it out~

Blueby's Thanksgiving

Hey, Sonic.
We're so in-tune with each other, we make each other cry.

This is the second Thanksgiving without mom.
The first Thanksgiving with The Hamilton Family in YEARS.
I was working last Thanksgiving.

Let's look at the plus signs!

J Dilla might've been mom!
Like... WAS MOM!
Beyonce is grandma!
THAT'S why she's so beautiful!
Uncle George is 9th Wonder!
Uncle Jeff is DAD/Jay-Z!
Our baby mama is Dr. Dre.
AND Timbaland!

We recorded almost 600 albums (INCLUDING EXECUTIVE PRODUCING A MAJOR LABEL DEBUT!!!!) before the age of 30!



Well, there's one thing.

I'd die if you leave me, Sonic.
I know, I know... I told you to find another body.
I was trying to avenge your murder.
I would've done HARD TIME, but you would've been a war hero.

I'm glad it's over, but Blueby, KNOW I'll do anyhing for you.



Don't turn the lights out just yet, babe.
I'm workinonit.

Jack Splash, thank you, and get on down.

Daft, muah.

SO MANY people to name.

I love y'all.

As far as you humans, my love (at one point) was unconditional.
You proved to me I should hinder my love for all.
So, get in tune with SEGA if you want me to put you back in my shattered heart.

This "movement" of mine is my everyday life.


~shout it out~