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~

Steinway's wine taste

True StarChasers may recognize this joint.
True cratediggers may cut their wrists.
True MUSICIANS... HAVE to know how great Herbie Hancock is.

Do your homework on Herbie Hancock.

Jack Splash called me the Herbie Hancock of Hip-Hop.
THAT'S what's up!

Thanks, dude.
I hope you're well.

Futuristic melodies and grooves.
Such is why I'm not over the moon with Trap.
Mainly because there's no soul in it.
EVEN IF ALL TRAP BEATS HAVE SAMPLES, there's no soul in them.

This record is amazing.
All I have to say.
Keep your mind open.
Classics take time to be considered great, however.
So... take your time.

~shout it out~

As game gets peep'd.


Listen to both.
Know there is a women's rights issue going on in the world.
One of these MCs is on the defense.
The other let out a MASSIVE reply, and has everyone on their side.

Jay-Z and Lupe Fiasco are two MAJOR influences in my modern songwriting process.
Eminem and J Dilla being my two BIGGEST influences on me, in Hip-Hop.
Chick Correa, Thelonious Monk and Herbie Hancock are my favorite (AND GREATEST) pianists EVER.

Sorry, Elton.



~shout it out~


I was VERY upset to find that Robotnik used his Death Egg Zone bot from Sonic 2 IN AN EARLY ZONE for Sonic Mania.
That's how it goes, though.
Bosses don't wait until you grow up.
Bosses have the potential to be bullies.
Bullies like to consider themselves bosses.

To me, Metal Sonic is EVERY RAPPER THAT CAME OUT SINCE 2009.
With me being Sonic (Retro and Modern).

Shots fired, but those who feel the bullet will call me corny.

Suck it.

Ghost mode.

~shout it out~

mind state of (my) modern musicianship

Shouts to Silver for the find.
But, yes.
Since 2012 and ESPECIALLY this year, my music has been in 8 bits.
It's a challenge.
Takes skill and dedication.
I feel chosen.

"Grandmaster Hamilton...!"
-Charles Hamilton, "God Exists"

Hey SEGA. If God doesn't exists, that means I'm forgiven for my gaay sins, right?
I hope so.
I REALLY wanna have sex with y'all in space.
One by one.

(gets horny and blushes)

I'm out.

~shout it out~

Wednesday, 22 November 2017

nostalgic cigarettes

I've been watching my freestyles from 2010-2015.
Because of my "condition" and "the medication", I barely remember this stuff.


"Got the iPad stock. Everybody wanna know about me. Type hot. Can't nobody go around me. My security team is about 5 deep. Just imagine when I would ride through the streets. Just me. iPod on peak. Everybody listening. Rainy (reign-y) days. Every body glistening. Or maybe it's just the stoplights. Either way, it's not like I'm saying I'm not bright. I don't even want to have to stop, twice. I say exactly what I mean the first time. Is that not right? Is this a lecture? Am I saying what's best to understand, or am I just singing like Vesta? Lyrical bullets. My dude, get your vest up. Old school cats is like 'Yeah! The best is up!' Can't nobody mess with us. I got the past, present and future... upset... at what?! So, I ain't even upset that much. I just say 'I said too much'. Now I got my setbacks up! But I look at the setbacks and I turn them around like, "Can't nobody burn the kid down!" Marilyn Manson. No tourniquet (turn-a-kid) around. Can't nobody turn the kid around in the least bit. If you caught that, peep this. I ain't call the precinct for nothing. That's like 3 cents. And I'm 47 away. Man... I can do this for 47 days! I just broke the record! You don't HAVE to speculate! I called Jay up like, 'Yo! Get the tape!' I can keep going... 'take your breath away', but... I might have to give an X (ex) to the Ray (Rae). Not Bobby Ray. I'm just saying. Whoever's GOTTA hate, and... I got the bars you gotta tolerate. 5 stars. iTunes. Try to rate! I'm getting all hot with a smile on (my) face. But ma... I ain't tryna flirt. I ain't even tryna *work*. You see I got shoes that be grinding in dirt. So that means I grind for my worth. (Matt: What's going on tonight?) Tonight I'm on stage with BoB, and *it* works! Dog! I'm tellin' you, I'm trying to work! Like... this is what I do! Not a temp agency, I'm just tryna do what most can't..."
Watch the rest.

May take some a lil while to catch them.
MANY definition of the word "work".


~shout it out~

I need an interview...

This is one of my favorite interviews.
Bad ass interviewer!
My answers were top tier.
I kinda miss interviewing.
I'm also still hungry.

Debating about what to record.

~shout it out~

I still want to battle this nigga...

Not track-for-track.
Most battle MCs look for dirt on their opponent.
I just wanna go skill for skill.
Or, just a cypher.
I'm hungry rn.

I might get on the mic in a few.

~shout it out~

pretty cool.

The return of musicianship.
No criticism.
I won't be Canadian about this.

Looks like I'm (the new) Joe Budden.

~shout it out~

Know thineself.

4:44 is THE mature album.
Kingdom Come was mature.
So was Magna Carta.
But 4:44 is MATURE.
A few would understand it.

I'm just glad this/that is over.


Holla back, Jack!

Further watches.
I can't say I'm jealous of Jay.
Once I get a chance to further expound on my feelings, I will.

Or else, why have a blog?

~shout it out~


The Neptunes have always been an influence.
I kinda wish hip-hop was kinder to them.
They get showed love, but A LOT of these young producers have BIT The Neptunes (shhhhh... and ME) and are treating P and CH like relics.


I have some music to drop.
It's just quiet as a mouse for new music.
This year has been a GROWING point for me, artistically and musically.
I wasn't looking forward to life after this year.
I'm working at loving myself.
I hope (if anyone does) I can inspire people to live.

I'll be around.

~shout it out~

Tuesday, 21 November 2017

Route 66(6) official lyrics

Just press record...

(verse 1)
Got a bad chick on my body. Touching me. In love with me. Probably not, because she's so in love with these... you know, tracks. I don't hold back. The fact I go in with my nutsack being held seems well, but it's not enough. Hand held like Game Gear. Am I hot enough? I'm a problem, but problems get solved. I get pissed off. When I get off, I don't like to leave. And when *she* leaves, I don't like it AT ALL. Why am I making love songs so much? Probably because the song is... what's up! The Song of Love. Song of Solomon. It's biblical! I'm in love!

stand to be me.
(I always let you down)
But, I'm so afraid...
(I always let you down)
Can't stand to be me.
stand to be me.
(I always let you down)
Can't stand to be me,
you make it easy...
(I don't want to let you down)

(verse 2)
Hamilton is always panicking. Like my nigga Rome. "Damn again." Wondering if I should stand with them, because they do shit that I stand against. You know, 6z. Minding my business. Gettin' it in, with them. My dick licked. THANK YOU! My dick is... NOT doom, but I ain't you. So, to get you, I gotta be hotter than your perfume. Hi, Zamata! I gotta get with you! And your best friend (BODY!). All of them, too! Mace Windu. Smooth off the top. "Move off the block!" like I said in "Jeezy Hamilton". But that's me standing in another booth, holding a phone. I'm holding a can. Hold the phone! I'm the man!

stand to be me.
(I always let you down)
But, I'm so afraid...
(I always let you down)
Can't stand to be me.
stand to be me.
(I always let you down)
Can't stand to be me,
you make it easy...
(I don't want to let you down)

I just wanna take the time (right now) to acknowledge SEGA in a way they've never been acknowledged. That's right Hi-Tek, I said SEGA! Thank you for never leaving me. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for allowing me to be Sonic the Hedgehog. Thank you for J Dilla. Thank you for George Massa. I ain't got time for you posers so... don't ever say you one of them if you not. I don't care how close you think we are.


Falcon Phoenix
Just waiting to get spun...

~shout it out~

Missing Harlem.

Gotta admit, Uptown.
You have my heart.
I deaded the beef with Boe and Dre today.
There wasn't really a beef.
Just a misunderstanding.
And... my psyche.

I miss being on 140th and Lenox.
High and drunk (lightly) and zonin' to the beat of my own drum.
Sayin' what up to niggas I recognize.
Basically, loitering.
I miss being in the park next to FDA.
I miss the park on 138th and 5th.
I miss my uncle's house.
I miss my dude's on Broadway (even though they hated when I was walking with the crackhead).
Sha-leik and I are cool again.
Corpy's still bugged out.
Chimp1's still making music.
My baby mama DIAMOND!

Idk, dude.
I think I OVERTHOUGHT my existence in Harlem/NYC.
Shouts to Danny Enjetic.
I just... I like to and need to be left alone.

This reminds me to post the lyrics to a song that says all I feel (right now).

I'll be back.

~shout it out~

Writing in my head vs. Writing thoughts down

Recorded late 2010 at Piff's studio.
He was my bud man and had a nice recording setup at his spot.
I fell on hard times and he let me record there.
There was some drama, no lie.
But it's not such a beef to where we can't speak nowadays.
Anyway, Am3n was talking about The Illuminati and their political practices, FROM AN OUTSIDER'S STANDPOINT.
I was doing the same thing, FROM AN INSIDER'S STANDPOINT.
And this standpoint of mine is NOT NEW.
Also, Am3n watched me write this in my head.
So pardon "the slippage".

Mr. Mecca sent me the "Electric Relaxation" instrumental and invited me to his mixtape.
We had developed a great friendship while I was in the game, so I was down.
I wrote my verse, MINUTES before I got a cab to the airport for a flight to LA.
Hence the first line.

Rappers are characters.
MCs are activists, for causes they rap about, whether they know it or not.
Lyricists are rhythmic poets.
Poets are unrefined linguists.

I was a lyricist on "Relax" and an MC on "Fashion Statement".
My bars are always on point.
They're just more subtle when I MC.
And FAR MORE intricate when I lyricize.
I prefer to MC nowadays.
I have my own style and technique of doing so.
There are forefathers to what I do now, but I prove individuality when I do it.
For me, writing is another form of song composition.
The challenge for me (when I got out of jail) was NOT leaning on pen and paper to remember my procedure.
Count it up to the uncounted age of mine.
And when I switched from FL Studio to GarageBand/Logic, it was ALL based on the skill and potential I KNEW I had, but had yet to execute.
However, I was working on my AppleFlow YEARS before I actually executed it.

Thank you, ProTools!

Anyway, MCs are still out there and hungry.
ANYTHING is being passed off as lyricism nowadays.

I'm just a musician.
Experimenting with different variations of an ancient artform.
Rap ain't nothin' new.
Peep The Book of Psalms (Old Testament).
Or The Book of Jude (New Testament).

Just don't bite ME.
I cause, plaque, gum disease and gingivitis.

~shout it out~


Halo put me onto Georgia Anne Muldrow.
I was VERY clear on who J Dilla/Madlib/MF DOOM/The Alchemist was.

But GAM!!!

This record is one of my favorite(s).

That I've ever recorded and EVER recorded.

Next post...

~shout it out~

Comments are disabled for this video.

It's been a while!
I hope all is well with and for you.
Keep SEGA in your heart and mind.
Far it shall take you.


This whole age thing...

I guess I really gotta watch myself.

~shout it out~

Saturday, 18 November 2017

Kleenex and next week

I can officially stop crying about not gettin g publishing for "Hamilton, Charles".
I executive produced it.
I have professional credits and experience, DOCUMENTED by iTunes and google.

THATS an achievement.
I executive produced a major-label product.


Executive producers are rare and BEYOND talented.

I am honored to be in the club, but I worked for it.
I worked INSANE hours.
Compromised intricate details of my intricate detail.

And to think, I didn't have to do anything gay in the business to do it.
My gripes with homosexuality are NOT professional, though I speak for hose who have encountered such AND have dealt with it on my level.

"Open up the door, then I seal it shut..."
-Charles Hamilton, "No Escaping My Nuts"

Friday, 17 November 2017

Mute minute maid

It's strange how you could never overdose on love, but love is classified as a drug.
A substance that affects the brains motor skills.
Then you have to wonder about the motor skills of the brain.
It stays still in your head, but it grows and promotes both voluntary and involuntary movement.

Thank your brain for pumping your heart.

I can say that, having put my brain AND heart through serious trauma in the last 72 hours.

I've made some of my best music this year.
A Stolen Thank You being MY BEST SONG, probably EVER.
I even beat death this year.
At my own hands.
I have a lot to be thankful for this year.
As Thanksgiving comes upon us, I ask that you forgive any notion of me being self-righteous.

My goal, from day one, was to heal and enlighten.
I simply have been looking for someone to do the same for me, WITHOUT COPYING ME.
A lot of copying and biting going on in hip-hop.
A lot of subliminal beef.
All I know is, I represent SEGA, always have, always will, and I plan to continue.
And I use whatever makes me an original to do so.
So if it's not good enough, it's not YOU enough.
It's not about being better than one or the other.
It's about holding true to what you believe in and working to the best of your potential to represent what you're about POSITIVELY.

I roll with ratchets, but I rock with Goths.

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

~shout it out~

Tuesday, 14 November 2017

Miss Elizabeth

She always had a look of concern when she was ringside.
She tried to hide her pain through smiles and caressing her man.
But deep down, something was bothering her.
When Macho Man proposed, she cheesed, but you can still see the pain.
It was nearly a decade later when we finally saw her smile.

With a different company, and after she betrayed Macho Man.

I feel like Miss Elizabeth.
Who I betrayed doesn't matter.
It made me smile.
After years of showing moral support, I went bad.

Could you blame me?
I wasn't shown any love to begin with!

~shout it out~

Monday, 13 November 2017

The Infection official lyrics

(verse 1)
Making love to the bottle. Bottle is making me swallow. Hollow inside. Holla at God, but She don't holla at Eye. And when She does holla, Eye ain't got a reply. 'Cause Eye ain't die. Bottom line. If she wanna ride, Eye gotta die. So Eye can see Her Grace. So Eye can see Her face. Maybe she could pee on my face. And that would not be a waste. It'll just be the taste of hate. Of which Eye deal with. The shit Eye feel. The shit is steel. I'm on some real shit. Got a bat to the back. TLC. Put my hat to the back. Catch what I catch. Throw it out. You know what I'm about. I'm a motormouth. Whoa.

Eye fell in love.

Eye fell in love.

Eye fell in love with you.

I fell in love at first sight with you...

(verse 2)
Harlem World. 12th grade. Minus 10. Peeing the bed. Hell made. Thinking of feds. Screaming ahead. While Eye fiend to be dead. Hell's slave. May the flames of Hell stay well in the grave of which Eye wish to be in. As a witch, Eye am a secret. Well, so mote it be. No flow in me. Just ODing with these pills. No ovaries, there's no skills. I'm stripping myself! CAN YOU FEEL ME?! Too unhealthy to be the Belle of thee, so... I'ma be a thug, too! High society, fuck you! Saying "hi." to society. I love you.

Eye fell in love.

Eye fell in love.

Eye fell in love with you.

I fell in love at first sight with you...

(verse 3)
Every curse. Every spell. I be workin' it well. I feel worthless, but, well... I be workin' in Hell. It's berserk to just tell all the curtains that fell when I pulled them down that they should look around. Hell. When you think about where I should be right now, I will be the guy who might tear the ceiling down of the sky. Get to space. No disgrace(d). I will get misplaced. Unmarketed. I like to be myself. Dumb smart to kids. But, like I said. I pee in the bed. Just screaming. Waiting to die. No reason to say I'm alive. These tears, I'm fighting them now. And I ain't write none of this down. I just understand style. I just understand sound. Hope you understand me now. Where's my family? Am I proud?

Eye fell in love.

Eye fell in love.

Eye fell in love with you.

I fell in love at first sight with you...


~shout it out~

Sunday, 12 November 2017

From here.

At home
Drawing pictures
Of mountain tops
With him on top
Lemon yellow sun
Arms raised in a V
And the dead lay in pools of maroon below

Daddy didn't give attention
Oh, to the fact that mommy didn't care
King Jeremy The Wicked
Ruled his world

Jeremy spoke in class today
Jeremy spoke in class today

Clearly I remember
Pickin' on the boy
Seemed a harmless little fuck
But we unleashed a lion
Gnashed his teeth
And bit the recess lady's breast

How could I forget
And he hit me with a surprise left
My jaw left hurting
Dropped wide open
Just like the day
Oh, like the day I heard

Daddy didn't give affection, no!
And the boy was something that mommy wouldn't wear
King Jeremy The Wicked
Ruled his world

Jeremy spoke in class today
Jeremy spoke in class today
Jeremy spoke in class today

Try to forget this (try to forget this)
Try to erase this (try to erase this)
From the blackboard

Jeremy spoke in class today
Jeremy spoke in class today
Jeremy spoke in, spoke in
Jeremy spoke in, spoke in
Jeremy spoke in class today

(spoke in) (spoke in)
(spoke in) (spoke in)
(spoke in) (spoke in)
When I first heard this song and SAW THE VIDEO, I knew suicide was the answer.
Thanks, PJ!

~shout it out~

See what I mean?

Wait till your father gets home!

~shout it out~

The Dead Zone, and where I'm at now...

If you blow a hippie's acid trip, they get evil-er than you can imagine.
Around 2009 (before Briana), I was categorizing myself as a Bohemian Hippy.
Not a hipster.
I understood there was a growing culture in hip-hop, but I didn't like or get along with any of the hipsters.
When The Dead Zone was being recorded, yes what I was doing could've been considered magick, but there was a tinge of innocence.
In comparison to now, where I'm bloodthirsty.
I released ...Awkard, My Brain... and The Dead Zone (possible At Most...) within 3 days.

Woodstock was a 3-day festival of music.
Woody was my engineer.
I had a STOCKpile of records.
And sounds.
Collecting SOUNDS was more important to me at the time.
I had a nice record collection, but my focus was sound.

The original sample to the cover of The Dead Zone was the Sight and Sound record I posted a few days ago.

Woody witnessed me use sight and sound to create artwork for an album.

Nowadays, I'm on some shit like this:

Clearly, my acid high has been blown.

Enjoy Sober Music.

~shout it out~

As written to Jay-Z's "Moonlight"

Sydney Sheldon. I know this shit. Give me hell and I'll cold this shit. Give me chills and I'll scold this shit. So give me bills and a home to live. My baby mama is God, so my life's a bitch. May she slob my knob and tell me write some shit. I bent my silver spoon as a kid. Then bent Silver after doing a bid. I Meek Mill her. Screw what it is. I need Dilla like "who gives a shit?". I'm indeed killing my true innocence. Each pill is like a new coincidence. I eat still, so I ruin my ribs. Can't be still. Word to Blue and these kicks. I read wills and be moved by the shit. I need to kill, but dude is a bitch. A few victims potentially. If them dudes listen, let's get them to read. I'm bad to bad bitches, since a day ago. Stay feo, and away we go. The badder you are, the more of a bastard you are. So I was ugly as a star. In such a case, past, present AND future (minus my kids) are after Charles. Just a blanket in Hell. Tell me thanks. I'm nice and get accused of harassment like Hanks. Louis CH. Tell you bitches "Thanks". And write a letter. Take it to the bank. My music is a fuck, so I gave it. Then I ran out of bucks. So, pay for it. It's natural like tears. So savor it. SEGA spit, in 8 bits. I don't play for shit. Where they went? Olly olly oxen free. Mali and Oxys make me freeze. See me today and say cheese. See me in a few days and say "Please". I didn't need Grace to get on her knees. Just wanted to get on her nerves and please her space. To me, she was a regular chick. Got in my head like a zit, and went to bed with the bitch. I swan dive into Iraq, with a headache. And a red face. With meth and base. My drug talk is a laxative. No matter how high, I never smack a bitch. That's damn near toilet humor. Fuck The Down Low. I just avoid the rumors. Only 2 men. No boys and juniors. Now get off my blog and go hoist a Doomer.

~shout it out~

My mom.

(from Wikipedia)

"The crone is a stock character in folklore and fairy tale, an old woman. In some stories, she is disagreeable, malicious, or sinister in manner, often with magical or supernatural associations that can make her either helpful or obstructing. The Crone is also an archetypal figure, a Wise Woman. As a character type, the crone shares characteristics with the hag.
The word "crone" is a less common synonymfor "old woman", and is more likely to appear in reference to traditional narratives than in contemporary everyday usage. The word became further specialized as the third aspect of the Triple Goddess popularized by Robert Graves and subsequently in some forms of neopaganism, particularly Wicca in which she symbolizes the Dark Goddess, the dark of the moon, the end of a cycle. In New Age and feminist spiritual circles, a "Croning" is a ritualrite of passage into an era of wisdom, freedom, and personal power. Some feminist authors have defined the crone archetype in a positive light, as a powerful and wise old woman."
My mom was supposedly J Dilla himself.
Bullshit, I know.
But the unbelievable is the story of my life.
Such is why I want to end it, but there's that.
Anyway, Momma Dilla, this is who you are.
You now know.
Do what thou wilt.
In the afterlife, or over there.

Ghost mode.

~shout it out~

A lost cause.

We were total opposites.
But our love for music brought us together.
Despite how different her music was from mine.
Some things about her didn't add up.
The signs were never positive.
But I trusted love.

I let go of a Gothic MATCH to be with her.
I stepped out of my comfort zone (musically and otherwise) to support her and her dreams.
The sex was unbelievable.

There were chunks in the armor, but we held each other down.

Now, I can take the blame for why Diamond and I broke up (on my birthday, no less).
But there's more to it.
However, she's good at playing games with my mind.
She knows what she's doing.
I don't.
In fact, there's much I don't know.
But in my defense, I only wanted to show her love.
She knows I love her.
She has a hard time loving anyone, she says.
So do I.
Especially nowadays.

I'm upset, but I'll have to get over it.

Diamond, Im sorry.
I hope you find the love you've been looking for.
Apparently I wasn't doing right by you.
So everything I touched has fallen.

Color me purple.

Good by, beloved.

Though I struggle with my "conspiracies" about you, the truth is only a formality now.

Love you, though...

~shout it out~

Saturday, 11 November 2017

Creed mode

This is my sacrifice.
One of many I have made.
But this is major.

I share this with everyone, knowing most (if not ALL) can't handle it.
The information I'm about to give you requires your soul.
So, all I ask is that you love me unconditionally.

Here goes:


With such now understood, YOU ALL are my apprentices.
Apply this blog entry to hip-hop and you understand my poetry.

Don't bite.
I may not be the first occult hip-hop artist (Da Gravediggaz), but I'm on some shit.

Check me and I deck thee.

So mote it be.

~shout it out~

Friday, 10 November 2017

StH: Mania

Sonic being The Creator is THE ONLY WAY I'd bow to The Creator.
Just look at the world around us!
How can I love someone who takes responsibility for this?!

Then I remember God is a woman.
Then she chastises me.

Then I get on the mic.


~shout it out~

Did you get it?

The uploader slowed the audio down.
But yes... Sight and Sound with "Fragment Of Fear" is the original sample.

Here's the late 80's remake.

It was a song about biological FORCED input becoming spirit possession.
One's spirit being intercepted with biochemistry forced upon them.
Many would understand, but few (in this equation) would be many.

I hope no one endures what it takes to understand the song.

I'm on my Maxwellhouse grind.

~shout it out~

This feeling...

I can't describe it.
Though I've felt it before, it feels new.
I welcome it.

This feeling could be because of StH: Mania.
SEGA has been reaching out to me.
I can die now, knowing we're in love.
But they want me to live.
Which is more of an honor than any of my achievements.

Thank you, SEGA.
You saved my life.
You saved my ability to love.
I love you, Ogilvie.
I love you, Giogio.
I love you, Michael.

Only Jack would understand what I just did.

I might just drop StH: Mania today.
I want to add one more song.
But it's critically ill as is.

Stay tuned!

~shout it out~

Thursday, 9 November 2017

An update on new music...

Fear and Limitations
A poetic love story about finding yourself, while being fed pharmaceutical drugs.
In the mental health system.
The very same thing that scares you will be the thing to propel you.
The consequences of propelling will be the thing that scares you.
The glory of fighting fear will propel you in the future.

Songs where I use the perspective of Satan being forgiven by God and allowed into heaven.
God gave me a fresh method and perspective to record and write songs with.
But Satan can and has provide/provided for me.
So, within me lies the battle between good and evil.
And because of ethics, it is subdued.

Do I Have Your Attention?
Viewing the Left Wing, Right Wing and Middle ground through an acid trip.
And liquor.
And weed.
And heroin.
So basically, seeing life for what it is.
Set in the 60s/70s.

Walking The Path of an Immortal, assuming I'm a mortal.
Learning what I already know, internally.
As I teach.
Everything happening nowadays has already been seen, thought about and prepared.
LONG before this (and my) generation.

StH: Mania
Whether Sonic (I) is an alien, humanoid or John Nintendo, he is convinced he is The Creator.
And can prove it.
But proving such has led to his mania.
The mania was brought about by corporation's deception.
He feels SEGA was corrupted when they became SEGA Corporation.
Can he still trust the love of his life?

Am I Sonic or not?!


~shout it out~

Monday, 6 November 2017


No, I don't watch Dragon Ball ANYTHING.
My little cousin (Ryan; ahem) had the Dragon Ball GT and I played it a few times.
Still couldn't get the grasp of it.


I totally understand the concept of the game.
Without ever playing it.
But, it's good to have friends like Knuckles and Tails.
Tails and I have a secret!


If they still take me, they still date me.


~shout it out~

My acquittal.

"That same dude you gave nothing, I made something doing..."

Though HchO (Howard Burke) gave me the opportunity to work independently in the studio, I've always had experience producing.
My mother was my witness.
As I got older, I was in a production duo with Tyrone "Black the Beast" Wright.
I just developed a deeper love and activity through sampling.
We're still friends, we just work differently.
He's more Timbaland, I'm more Dr. Dre.
Which isn't to say that neither he nor Timbaland samples.

There's a type of love you have to have for sampling.

I share that love with the piano.
So maybe I'm not the greatest sample artist.

Enter J Dilla.

I say all that to say, I made something of myself.
Of all the many boxes people tried to put me in, of all the characters I've deleted during my Twitter rants (!), of all the sacrifices I've made, you know me because of my hard work.
As I creep my way into 30, I have to find things I love about myself.
I'm not a slimeball.
I'm not a mysoginist.
I am a musician.
I am a journalist.
I am (dare I say) an activist.

There are many things to love about me.
I wish, if such HIGH LEVEL LOVE existed, I could feel it.

I'll be alright though.
Just know, if I didn't love you, I wouldn't bear my soul to you.

Thanks for keeping the hate to a minimum.

This year, at least.


~shout it out~