Tuesday, 28 February 2017

In response to Donald Trump's first SOTY

Our TRUE president and vice president.
Hope you're digging the new Dilla tribute project.
Won't be online forever.


~follow the buzzards~

Sunday, 26 February 2017

for the loyal.


~follow the buzzards~

Everyone official lyrics (don't sleep)

(verse 1)
Sometimes I wish I was Common for a day, but I’m honest anyway. The pain in my heart, yo I gotta give away. Not to be a plague, but we’re dying for a change. Thought control has us all crying to be strange. From MySpace to Instagram, coming together is in the plan. Gunning for forever, but never given chances. Progression is the lesson of mine. Depression weighs heavy on the mind. Let me define. A physical weight is placed on the mental. Disgrace and hate isn’t simple. Take away all of your vanity and pimples. Family’s an issue for the lost and rebellious. Girls stay alone. Thugs talk to the fellas. The yuppies chase the paper while the gangstas shank a hater. Independent artists wanna make it to the majors. What we have in common? We can’t wait to see The Savior. And none of us wanna hear “Later”. Let’s go

And I mean everyone
Take it back to the days where passion remains
We all gonna be laughing away
I have to say to everyone
And I mean everyone
When God calls your name, it stops all the fame
So if you go hard, go harder.

(verse 2)
Be clear on what your rights are before you stand up. Think twice before you walk around like “And what?!”. Racism is fear. Faces just appear. We stay living, making decisions in tears. Take a sip. Make a fist. Break a brick. Make a list of what you came to get, and make a break for it. Everything is black and white, but no yin and yang. Which is why I don’t spit with a different name. My shit is plain. Revolution isn’t a game. People crying out religiously. But when you complain, you get hit in the brain by a minister’s cane. To be real, don’t enter the game. But alas, if your interest is fame, than get your acclaim. Just don’t nag when you give up your name. Not trying to discourage. I gotta just nourish. Develop yourself, and then watch yourself flourish.

And I mean everyone
Take it back to the days where passion remains
We all gonna be laughing away
I have to say to everyone
And I mean everyone
When God calls your name, it stops all the fame
So if you go hard, go harder.

Jeff, why do you want me to be mean to you?
In addition, why do you want to be mean to me?
I thought we had a bond...

The Money Gang.


I woulda died for y'all.

I mean, there's SEGA, and I'd die for them at the drop of a hat, but yo.
We was here before lil homie.
C'mon now...

~follow the buzzards~

Saturday, 25 February 2017

Loving my StarChasers

I just sent one of my longtime StarChasers, Chris Baker, a copy of The L Word: Simone.
It might leak.
I don't even care anymore.
I just hope he likes it.
Loves it, actually.

My music isn't for everyone.
I just want everyone to respect it.

So there's that.

Hopefully someone can come up with some artwork for The L Word: Simone.
It would be a picture of Planet X.
If you could find one.

I love you, Simone(s).
You too, Sasheer.

And Drake, don't diss me ever again.
You already won.
At this point, I'm looking to burn bridges.

~follow the buzzards~

Candles, sandles and handles.

I could be happy.
I think I can, at least.
I said a prayer for the first time in a long time today.
Maybe it hasn't been that long.
I think I blogged about saying a prayer at some point.
But yeah.
I asked God to remove some of the pain I've been experiencing.
I think my fear of rape has gotten the best of me.
As well as fickle women, critical fans, downlow men and Yhe Illuminati.
But yeah.
God immediately gave me a feeling of security.

This proves God exists.
I knew she did.
But so many people have done fucked up shit, both to me and the world at large, in God's name.
And have been doing it forever.

Fucked up things happen on my name, too.
Thus making it hard to count on me for anything other than music.
So I give my all through music.
Answers, questions, confessions... YOU NAME IT! (Shirley Ceasar voice)

Alas, it might be true.
Pain may be my fuel.
Then again, when I was happy, I made music most of you still consider classic.

For now, I think I regret pouring so many emotions into Rihanna/TheAwkwardSeries.
It just led to confusion and poor judgement.
I should not have let Briana live with me.
No matter how hard she (psychically) insisted she was Rihanna.

My damn iPhone thinks it's funny I got hit by her.
So do most of you.
Those with subconsciouses understand why I didn't hit her back.
I don't get the joke.
At the same time, some other dude beat her ass on national television.

No one said a word about karma.

I didn't do it, so I don't care.
And I'd still like to beat it again, so I'm leaving it there.
Then again, why go back?
It doesn't make sense to.

lol I have enough Industry stories to last me on this blog for a lifetime.
I guess the business does change your perception.

Sucks, because my only perception was SEGA.

And like that, I'm out for the night.

So what you forgot?

~follow the buzzards~

the forgotten.

In the midst of my funk, I started working on another project.
the forgotten.
It's a sequel to Aware.

So there's that.

the forgotten.
To be released when I get respected.

Looks like I'm on strike.

Drake, Hov, Nas, Em, Chance, Childish... y'all up!

~follow the buzzards~

Understanding Shadow

I spent some time with Shadow the Hedgehog.
Basically every man's dream come true.
He can be complete asshole.
No doubt about it.

He has a unique ability to transport himself.
It gets him into trouble, but it is worship-able.
And his music is everywhere (see: "Hamilton, Charles").
But my thing is...


He has to learn how to control his urges.
And watch his fucking mouth.
Then again, he is a god.

The god Jack Splash.

I wouldn't be mad if he was John Nintendo.
I just thought I was John Nintendo.
It's kinda hard not to believe I am him.

Moving on.

I don't want this war to continue.
I want my friends.
If they can even be called that.
But damn, dudes.
You really have lives outside of me.

Then expect me NOT to bow.

"When am I gonna get a chance to sing?"

~follow the buzzards~

The L Word: Simone

So there's another L Word.
Mixed, mastered, and meant.
I really want all... ahem... ALL Simones to listen.
They understand me.
Thing is, I don't wanna drop it.
I don't wanna drop anything.
Not even The Socratic Doomer.

Music seems to be doing just fine without me.

Now now, execs.
That doesn't mean force Drake and Future to drop more music.
What I'm saying is, there is a level of appreciation that I work towards that I just don't get.
And it breaks Simone's heart.
All of them, if I'm reading the signs right.

Who's is it?

I'm aware that a lot of people listen to my music.
I'm not aware of what they get from it.
I don't write down every bar, so I can't see the content.
I just know that it's from the heart.
And will.
And soul.
Something I thought I lost a few years back.

This post is about one of the songs on The L Word: Simone.
It's called "A Stolen Thank You".
This/that song is the reason why it's so hard for me to record anything new.
I literally said everything I wanted to say to you (Simone).
All I have to do now is smoke some weed with you.
I know your tolerance is pretty high, and there's not much more to see after me (conceit? nah; you complete me), but still.
I want to take you to heights I imagined by any other being.

I believe in free will.
But what happens when you meet the master?
His will is your way.
So yeah.
I can't blame anyone for not acknowledging me.
I almost don't want to be acknowledged.

I would've loved a Grammy, however.

But I won't diss Chance.
Or Childish.
Though I've responded to some jabs from Gambino before.
Unless they weren't jabs.
Whatever, says the clueless saint.

So there's that.

"I'm sorry, Simone!"
-Charles Hamilton, "A Stolen Thank You"

And Sasheer, you could get LAID!

~follow the buzzards~

"We go ahead, now..."

This morning starts with hunger.
And missing someone.
Last night was the beat battle between Swizz Beatz and Just Blaze.
Highly entertaining.
Ebro said Swizz won.
And I'm leaving it there.

Entertainment nowadays isn't what it used to be.

Mentioning that makes me not wanna blog anymore.
I gotta remember why I started blogging this morning in the first place.

Hold on.

Can't remember why I was posting...

~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 24 February 2017


Everyone wants to fight.
I know this, because there are so many posts and usernames talking about "these hands" and catching the fade.
I was once there.
Granted I was willing to ONLY fight for the independence of SEGA, but regardless.
I wanted to put up my dukes and scrap.
I don't tolerate disrespect very well.

But what is everyone so mad for?

I have THE ANSWER to everyone's anger.
I just feel as though I've given so many answers already that you'd probably rule it off as psycho babble.
So, it stays stored in my head.

Translation: ass!

I should probably delete that.
Too many people are gunnng for my ass to begin with.

So here.
At least one new song a month this year.
That was my plan, as well as only dropping The Socratic Doomer.
I have some L Words in the stash, a new StH, and I'm thinking of recording another Intervention.

With this one, I'm totally with the shits.

I kinda don't feel like blogging anymore about that, so... just stay tuned.
You might get more music this year after all.


~follow the buzzards~

Well, Chicago...

It's all on you.
What did YOU do to my sleeping corpse?

Shouts to Tasha Quinn.

~follow the buzzards~

I still believe...

...I'm just not Sonic.

~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 23 February 2017

The glory of "No Title"

Can you feel my ambition?
My rage?
I was everything I wanted to be.
I remember the day I recorded this song.
I woke up from the dream that placed Drake, Rick Ross and Keri Hilson in a compromising situation.
I wrote to the beat, waited for Ninja-neer to show up to the studio, and I went in.
Later that same day, Ninja called this bassist and this guitarist.
And we jammed for about 20 minutes.
In the same key as "No Title".
It was the reunion/formation of SEGA.

It was real.
Very real.
Maybe too real for the masses.
"Hold on, let me finish!"

Maybe you guys still have Substance Abuse.
I'm sorry (Toya) for calling you a bird bitch.
You just gotta watch the company you keep.

And on that note, GOOD NIGHT!!!

~follow the buzzards~

Alone, and being it.

Sometimes I want to be alone.
Plot on how I can make a world suitable enough for my world to coexist with it.
But, I'm not alone.

Or am I?

Have the aliens left me?
That would hurt my heart so much.

Listen, you little munchkins.
I didn't talk about you in school because I was afraid of being a further outcast.
But I talked about you.
I always believed in you.

When I finally smoked weed in college, I saw how right I was for believing.
And I've been insane since.
You are the cause of my insanity.
I just love you so much.
And to know my idol is y'all franchise...


I love you, Sonic the Hedgehog.
I love you, Silv.
Shadow, it's been real.
Daft, I'm the daddy.
Davina/Mystic, I can't choose.
Talking Heads, I'm sorry.
Tim & Bob, y'all need a massage.
Everyone else, I hope my "wealth" serves its purpose.

I just want to make the greatest music.

And like that, I wonder what memories will surface.
Or whenever.

~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 22 February 2017

As Satan Douches...

It's not even that I don't like gay people.
I just don't like men on the Down Low.
They speak telepathically, and I can hear them.
It's wack, because telepathic communication is an aphrodisiac to me.

Such is probably why I'm so in love with Silver/Beyonce.

But... is she speaking for them, or have they cracked her code?
At one point in my life, I wanted to teach the world how to speak telepathically.
Now, I could give a fuck.
You don't deserve to hear some of my messages.

So stick with and deal with the subconscious.

More to come...

~follow the buzzards~

Tuesday, 21 February 2017

A long year ahead...

It's only February.
My vault is extensive.
So I've been dropping random tidbits just lingering around.
Plenty of new music.

I see I have a hit with "I'm Used To It By Now".
I acknowledge the power of magick.

So hard to separate magic from talent.
Talent is magic sprinkled into you at birth.

With that said, I miss my mother.
It's hard not to.

"But I'm not hard. I could get there, though."

I want another round at Sway.
I seemed very timid back then.
I was under a lot of pressure.
Couldn't say certain things.

I gotta rip it again.

Caught Heather B off guard.

~follow the buzzards~

Monday, 20 February 2017

I'm Used To It By Now lyrics

(verse 1)

Befriending I, until the end of the sky. If I end, it's the end of the sky. But I begin when the sky ends. Night time. I'm the N in the night. N. The Middle of the Night (In The Middle of the Night). Billy Joel. Really souls, you gotta get up and get silly with me so I don't get so silly with the globe and slit my wrist or let a nigga fold, in me. So, I don't sleep. I simply go in, knowing there's envy. Don't tempt me. No one can end me, unless they are in me. Therefore, envy. No speech, no speech involved. Just me being a creature, speaking from the top. People ought to know that it's hot. The reason why I go is because there's ain't reason to be hot. Except me...

You are my only friend.
You are my only friend.
I need your dedication.
Your respiration.
And your peace.
Rest in peace.

(verse 2)

I inspire, then I inspire retirement from them sires. At the same time, I don't really fire spit. I just perspire. Every word is fire. Because I dictated it, with dictatorship and the very fact I'm a dick when I spit. But I'm not hard. I could get there, though... sit there with a 'fro and I'll stare at your throat. Or, you could have the waviest hair/the craziest snares and I'll end up inside wishing to die. Again. But this is my time. When I rhyme. From my within. It's kinda hard to be this nice. Because I end up tossed from that plank. And cats can't wait to shank me. So I don't go to jail. So, baby, thank me.

You are my only friend.
You are my only friend.
I need your dedication.
Your respiration.
And your peace.
Rest in peace.

(verse 3)

Help me understand me better. I could do better if I could see better. I could see "whether", but I *knew* "whoever" could control me. Therefore, it's not Shinobi. Why am I controlled? Letting go of all that I hold on to, to hold on to you. Hold on. I "Hold On" to the view. No one wanna go on while I hold on, so I "Hold On" to you. Hold on, while I drive and you puke. Hold on while I'm wylin in the booth. Hold on, while I'm showing off and showing (on and on) my style, 'cause it's the truth. And my style is hostile 'cause niggas who are trying to get in the Moscow game are now bowing out saying they cannot aim, and I get the blame of it. Who knew?

You are my only friend.
You are my only friend.
I need your dedication.
Your respiration.
And your peace.
Rest in peace.

This year is just getting started.

~follow the buzzards~

Sunday, 19 February 2017

A (very) High Post

Can't tell you what I'm high on.
Just know I'm high.
And reflecting.

I have a girlfriend.
And... this always happens.
I doubt her love, show resentment for the duration of the relationship, and feel miserable when the relationship is over.
I try not to ruin it, but that's what I do.

I'm using the juices of the goddesses to continue everyday.
For that, I'm sorry.
I should use my own mind.
But my mind gets hijacked by a bunch of people who don't know my worth.
Or know my worth, and are belittling me for success.

Do you ever wonder how that makes me feel?

I've been having long conversations with people about only dropping one project this year/possibly forever.
I'm so upset with my StarChasers.
If you only knew how deep my unwritten songs were, you would appreciate it.
It takes skill to do what I do.
Both as an artist and as The All Seeing Eye.

I feel like I lost my essence.
Through sex.
Both consensual and non-consensual.

My uncle and I had a long talk on Friday.
I won't get into detail, but he basically beat me to suicide.

Let me spoil the surprise for you.
I was going to commit suicide at age 30 (see the below picture), on November 30th of my 30th year.

I am the only 3.
I may be one of 4 when it comes to being a 6, but there is no other 3.

Not even Trey Songz.

To my bullies of the past, why did you pick on me?
I just wanted to love life.
To the girls that wouldn't give me the time of day, why not?
And why now?
To be fair, they don't try to holla now.
I guess they know I'd get really Mike Jones on they asses.

But it felt good to fuck Amber.

I miss Simone.
Both the Simones I fell in love with, and the concept of a woman seeing me as her master.

I think I'm afraid of life.
More afraid of life than it is of me.
As an elephant, I'm a mouse.
I scare the others, but their big enough to kill me.

But I'm Charles Hamilton.

Such, strangely, speaks for itself.

But who am I to you StarChasers?

~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 17 February 2017

Your soul is at peace...

Yes, I have your soul.
Your soul is tormented.
Your soul hasn't slept in centuries.
Possibly a millennium.
You needed me to take your soul.
But, if you have it you give it, only to regenerate it in a minute.

Your soul can never be taken.
It can only be viewed.

I am taking care of your soul.
Love me as if I were you, and you can see your soul through my eyes.
Manipulate me, and you're killing yourself.

This is to a select majority.
Not to the masses.
The masses have to find their soul first.
And you cannot find your soul in Trap.
Trap erodes your soul.
It slows down your heart.
Making it a task to love more than the material things.

So, to some, love your soul's reaver.
May your body forgive you for your indiscretions.
Though my body, heart and soul belongs to you, I have to give my mind to myself.
A scary task, as I am not wrapped too tight.

SEGA, thank you so much for your gifts.
Allow me to provide you with the love you can no longer find within yourself.

Atari, this is our time.
Just love and respect SEGA.

Nintendo, this is war.
A war of which a truce can be called at any minute.

Madonna, you must choose your side.

This concludes this blog entry.
I'm at the shrink's office, where I will reveal all my secrets.
Including what I did, last night.

Charles Hamilton, I need you.
I lust after you.
I love you.


~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 16 February 2017

Originally a FB post.

It's official.
My two favorite rappers are Obie Trice and SKE the Heistman.
I just heard an Obie freestyle that re-changed my life.
I've ALWAYS loved Obie.
I think his flow, though reminiscent of Jay-Z, is a standard in hip-hop.

Which might make Jay a standard.

But it comes from somewhere.
You can feel the pain in his bars.

I tried to rap like Obie on StH: Cloud.
Just get hella drunk and vent.
I kinda didn't like how it came out.
But it spawned this new genre for me.

Sober Music.

Search the blog for more info.

As far as SKE, I get into his tales of being a hustler.
He's got great wordplay, a hard flow, and a dope sense of humor.

Alas, he's down with ... the other side.
Not the other team (fuckin' homos), but... the opposition.
Those of whom are profiting off The Black Market.

I kinda just snitched, so if I turn up missing, I always loved SEGA and I'm a fucking individual.

The Socratic Doomer is better than anything to come.

I just listened to some of it.
I'm great, dude.

And shouts to the StarChasers sending me money.
I kinda need it nowadays.
But no, that wasn't me asking for $500 on Facebook.
Like I said, my account got hacked.

I'm glad I'm getting so much love for "Responsibility".
I really like that song.
And the original record, "Shake It Down".

Shouts to HamilVision for making a dope video for "Shake It Down".

Long live King Dilla.

Well, I got plans tonight (ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!), so I'm making this short.

Holla whenever.

~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Responsibility official lyrics

I wanna lose control.
I wanna do something nasty.
Baby, let's lose control.
I love it when you get at me.
Baby, let's lose control.
Baby, just drums and wrap me.
Baby, let's lose control.
Baby, let's lose control.
Baby, let's lose control.

See, I use my soul. And I lost it to ladies and the industry that uses my control against me. So baby, make me (tenderly) get rid of me when I use my soul. Use the globe, UFO. Turn it against me, once again. So when you turn around and you're against me with your end, I can go against it till I'm reaching the end of your walls. We could be reaching the end of it all! I'm the star of DOOM. I'm starring with you. Aliens are all I need to groom. They're the reason I groom, too. And I need to be into voodoo even deeper, to keep them. They into voodoo and I see what the reason is. I love you, and breathing the jizz of my lady-ness. The goddess within me is spittin' craziness to the god within you. See we makin' love now... think about taking love down. And that's the sacred touch now. I hope you love it. It's SEGA. What up, now?!

I wanna lose control.
I wanna do something nasty.
Baby, let's lose control.
I love it when you get at me.
Baby, let's lose control.
Baby, just drums and wrap me.
Baby, let's lose control.
Baby, let's lose control.
Baby, let's lose control.

You hear me mumbling to get you. I'm runnin' with you, and I'm cummin when you kiss me. I'm like a virgin. My Girl. Veda. SEGA, you're all my girl. See ya later! When I close my eyes and dream about Beta Future, that nigga could be a hater. But you all I got, and you got all my data. Hot, but "later!". Hot-butt skater. That's what I look at me as... I got Avril Lavegne ass mad at me, in fact. Because I'm such a skater boy. She said "see ya later, boy!" Then she tried to bag me. I don't know, 'cause I'm a hater boy. Wait up, boy. I need to stay up late for girls. Because they know what I do when I "make up" in my world. I'm the creator of my world. And... shit. You could be living in my world in this bitch. Keep steppin' like Kellz in here. Because I'm so selfish. Here we go... whoa!

I wanna lose control.
I wanna do something nasty.
Baby, let's lose control.
I love it when you get at me.
Baby, let's lose control.
Baby, just drums and wrap me.
Baby, let's lose control.
Baby, let's lose control.
Baby, let's lose control.

Just a celebration of love.
And tyranny.

Love you, SEGA.

You got some work to do.

~follow the buzzards~

Update on "Eating".

So it turns out that Silver the Hedgehog's infinite psychic abilities is responsible for my paranoia about General Tso's Chicken.
SEGA is real.
And more than a conqueror.

I'm still pissed at you guys (y'all know why), and it'll be a minute before I'm over it, but it's still love.
As tainted as it has become.

~follow the buzzards~


So here we are.
Another night where I wonder about the productivity of food.
J Dilla made me hate food.
It's because of him I don't eat.
I mean, I eat, but I don't like it.
But food might not be so bad after all.
However, one of my favorite foods, when consumed high, fucked my head up forever.

I was in Electric Lady with Chris Young, and he ordered some Chinese food.
I asked for General Tso's Chicken.
I got it.
But I was high.
So when I ate a piece of General Tso's Chicken, I thought there were wires in it.
I was too paranoid to continue eating and too hungry to stop.
The more I ate, the more it was revealed to me that the Chinese have a plot to keep me on Earth, as opposed to joining my fellow alien brethren/sistren in space.
Basically, General Tso's Chicken is a bomb.

A bomb!

So I did a serious piece of praying for SEGA.

If they even are going to take me back to space.

And continued to eat.

Here in lies the issue:
The same voices that told me SEGA is real... rather, the same means of communication, were used to tell me General Tso's Chicken was a bomb.
Can I still trust my senses?
Can I still be trusted with my senses?
Am I really that old and airheaded?

Fast forward to tonight.
I asked my grandmother to order me some General Tso's Chicken.
I'm that hungry, and seeing as how SEGA may have left me to venture into other parts of the galaxy and galaxies undiscovered, it wouldn't matter if the Chinese blew me up.

Now would it?


~follow the buzzards~

Going HamTana!!!

HamilVision has come back with a vengeance!
Shouts to you, MK!


I am horribly and terribly sorry about revealing worship-level secrets.
I just wanted to clear the future's air.
That, plus I don't think that day will ever happen.
There are more important things going on in the world than the celebration of a Gothic Witch.
Or The Creator.

Just depends on who's eyes you're looking through.

Shouts to Rosa.
Shouts to Tanea.
Shouts to Christina.

Shouts to Simone.

Thank you, SEGA.

You still need me?

~follow the buzzards~

One 4 Brownie

So there you were.
The girl of my dreams.
Without saying a word.
Just a frustrated grin.

And there I was.
A loser.
Hiding behind medication and music.
Needing to record.
A broken smile.

We worked, you know.
Everything was perfect.
Even the sex.
The sex you swore wouldn't keep me.

But fuck if I didn't try to keep you.

You're probably in a hotel room with your new man.
Y'all are probably good and married.
Straight up, I should've NEVER let you go.
But if I had to choose between you and music, I would do it again.

I can't even ask you whether you wanted me to love you more than I love music.
That's what it was.
That, plus you and my mother couldn't get along.
I could've lived with that.
But I need the studio.
I need music.
I need the mic.
And now... I miss my mother.

Our love would've outlived her.
Our children would've been living well by now.
I guess you needed more security.

I need security.

Both financial and social.

But you were my security.
At least socially.
You made me make sense to me and the world I created.

It's been 5 years since you've been gone.
But you're with me everyday.

How, baby?

It's not up to me to figure out how anymore.
That's his job.

But you will never experience love like the love I gave you.

There's that.

Peace, Brownie.

I hope he makes you happy.

Because I will make you cum.

~follow the buzzards~

Monday, 13 February 2017

Follow the Buzzards


I allow words to take control. Then I take their soul. Rape them cold. Away they go, knowing they stay in my mind. Frozen. Playing in time. Golden. Like a grave of mine when I'm open to say the rhymes to have you focused on the poetry that I locust. Biblically speaking, my lyrics are creepy. Niggas don't need me, so they go back to their old emcees with they Kodaks. Nice fros. Nice chains. Nice whips. Like it all, but my brain is the shit. I pay attention in the midst of it all. And in the myst of it all, I'm mixing it PROPER.

Where the match at?
Where the match at?
Where the past at?
Where the past at?
Where the match at?
Where the match at?
Where the past at?
Where the past at?
I'm in love...

I-N-Telligent. Fine then. Guys get celibate when I climb in. My possession is my question(s). Can't get inside them when I rhyme reckless. I gave it all away. Got it back. Say it! "Charles, today you must remain the guy who could touch the frame of the sky and then aim at 'good bye' ...and remain this guy." Still with the stainless on my h-i-p. Tellin' everyone I got HIV so they won't stay by me. Make them sick at my crazy shit. On every level, I'm the baby, bitch. I came out of YOUR womb. And I'm talking to God. And she's forcing it, too.

Where the match at?
Where the match at?
Where the past at?
Where the past at?
Where the match at?
Where the match at?
Where the past at?
Where the past at?
I'm in love...

I'm connected to a higher power. Like Jay. When he was referring to ConEdison back in the day. But only people who NYC could pay, understand. Run it again. Let it play, everyday, in your yesterday. Which is your memory. Hope you remember me. I'm standing right by you (bayou) like Hennessy. I need a little ice in my Hennessy. Ice in the bayou won't remember thee. Because it's too hot. The conditions. The problem is trippin'. Off of the top, I got them noddin' and trippin'. The hottest position I could live in. No opposition. Competition. I'm feeling like Bray. On a Friday. The day before. But say I'm Raw.

Where the match at?
Where the match at?
Where the past at?
Where the past at?
Where the match at?
Where the match at?
Where the past at?
Where the past at?
I'm in love...

Congrats to Bray Wyatt. You (AND ONLY YOU) inspired me to get back in the game. 

~follow the buzzards~

Sunday, 12 February 2017

Return of the Mac

After much debate and request, I'm returning to FL Studio.
It's not the easiest decision.
I became The Lord on GarageBand.
Alas, it proved to be too much for your average listener.
So, here I am, downloading FL Studio 12 for the Mac.

I have many styles of making beats for FL Studio.
MPC, Logic, Keyboard (Pharrell samples, so you know), Sonar-style, Cubase-style...

With such being said, it's time to get to work.
The question is, will you HEAR any of them?

The Socratic Doomer
This summer.

~follow the buzzards~

Saturday, 11 February 2017

Prince's residue

So there seemed to be a little uproar in yesterday's live stream in IG.
By the way, on instagram, I'm @charleshamiltonreturns.
But yeah.
I said I'd let J Dilla smash it.
Might've pissed off a few StarChasers.
Well, it's a simple phrase.
"Kings get the ass, queens get the dick."
I'd let Dilla beat and totally fuck the shit out of Beyoncé.

No matter how they feel about me.

Not even mentioning the fact that both of them are hedgehogs.

So there's that.

And seeing as how most StarChasers would let Eminem beat, I don't see where the issue is.


Back to bed.

Just had to get that off my chest.

~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 10 February 2017

Grandma, don't kill me...

...but I had fun giving bait to these guys.
It's crazy what gets put in and taken out of context.
At least Dun got a chance to go in.

Shouts to Abiodun.

Yes, there is something bigger than our everyday existence.
Going on, right here in Harlem.
The trick is being CLEAR about it.

The word "It" has been tossed around so carelessly over the last 30 years.
What is "It"?
Clearly, it's more than a pronoun.
It is a being.
Originally defined as The Beast.
More clearly defined as an original god.

Specifically, an alien.

But this alien has done things out of the scope of being accepted.

Sounds like it's me.

But trust me.
There's more.

I might be doing another interview with Sa Neter.
Just for Harlem.
But Grandma and management would advise to do otherwise.

Who to listen to?

~follow the buzzards~

The aftermath of (me listening to) Warch the Throne

I was in court-ordered rehab when Watch the Throne dropped.
Matt (Michelson) sent me an iPod with it, along with TMMLP, The Pink Lavalamp and a few other projects on there.
I was hesitant to listen to it at first.
I thought I would be creating it as I listen.

I was probably right.

But foolish me, I kept listening.

Now, if I WAS creating the album as I listened, Jay's verses would be stronger than anything I have ever said/have yet to say, and Kanye's verses/beats would be rip offs of my ideas/weaker than anything I have yet to say.
So I took it as an ultimate diss album.
Seeing as how Jay feels I don't know shit.

Maybe that's changed, but to change the past is to erode the future.

So when I got out of rehab, I vowed to make albums/mixtapes/projects stronger than WTT.
Which led to a new form of insecurity.
How could I beat such a beautiful creation?
What was there perspective?
Was it a bunch of diss tracks?

And I was medicated (I used to pop at least 6 lithium pills before bed), so the intensity of hate was there.

Things looked bleak.

I since dropped close to 150 projects, all without writing, all while using the most difficult DAW on the market.
I used Logic at times, and when I got an MPC 500, I tried to break it.
But GB is my girlfriend.

I haven't listened to WTT in a while, and I'm sure it still has the impact on me that it did when I first heard it.
Well Jay, is it love?
I could have your back forever.

Jack, help us by helping yourself.

"My reality just set in..."

I have a lot of gas now.
Blame last night's late night hero and this morning's overdose of coffee.

Just wanted to put out there that Watch The Throne, J Dilla and SKE the Heistman have been the influences of the last 5 years.

And Madlib.

I wanna be (lyrically) MF DOOM without writing.

Shouts to Halo and Sciryl.
Those freestyle videos have been OD lately.
Feeling very inspired.

Still, only one release this year.
Maybe forever.
I gotta see some changes.
I'm going up against mumble rappers and swagged out industry implants.

Be back later.

~follow the buzzards~

As we proceed...

Another day.
Another morning, post-nightmare(s).
I gotta really watch where I sleep.
And who I trust.

So there's that.

I got a few subliminals about The Socratic Doomer.
Basically, since I'm making people wait for it, they want to MAKE SURE it's a classic.
I'm not making you pay for it, but look at all of what you've gotten for free.
No features.

With suicide not being an option (#30), that leaves space travel.
The people I would've taken with me are out of the question.
Won't name names.
But yeah.
It's just me and SEGA.

The way it always should've been.

I won't go there with how wild they are.
I can get wild myself.
But thanks to hardcore medication and intimidation, I'm now subdued.
All I know is, I don't want to spend another day on this planet.
And I won't be missed.
Reasons I can't explain.

Since I don't know much.

I got a few requests to do features.
They don't like my prices, so they talk shit.
I guess I can't make money.

Basically means no more at-home ProTools usage.
Which sucks!
Oh well, GarageBand it is...
I make good music (on there) regardless, so it is what it is.

My beloved record collection has been getting more and more eclectic.
A bunch of great additions.
Being The Eye means I have no privacy, so y'all know where I get them from.
If you don't, you know where I get them from.

The same place most of you could go.

How does Howard Stern and Don Imus get away with being abusive to the listener?
Such is a form of mastery in journalism...
Gotta get there.

Shouts to Frank MIDI and Danny Audio.
We make CLASSICS at Brick Oven!

I haven't spoken to Lisa in a good minute.
It looks like our relationship is through.
I'll wait until VDay to see.
I did cheat, so I wouldn't be surprised if this is her way of getting revenge.
Regardless, I have love for her and wish her well.

(bottled up; MAD shit is bottled up)

The day is just getting started.
I might be back on later.

For those on The Path, stay on it.
I strayed (The Chris-es), so I expect women to be grossed out at the sight of me.
But I'm still a good person.

Wicked as I am.


I love my hair.

~follow the buzzards~

Tuesday, 7 February 2017

"Get a clue, bastard!"

It's quiet.

~follow the buzzards~

Thank you, SEGA.

I pray to you.
I pray for you.
I adore you.

This is voodoo.

Now, hoodoo.
Or hudu.

Whatever you do,

(spell, casted)

Oh yeah.

Y'all ball.

~follow the buzzards~

Monday, 6 February 2017

God's birthday

Hapoy birthday, J Dilla.

"As you can see, this is not a game..."


All of which are games of humanity.
So is PAC-Man.
So is Centepede.
Many before Sonic.
Without such games, Sonic would have no direction.

There is a war for who will be Sonic's companion.
I am aware of this.
In many respects, Tails won.
He/she/it just has to stop crying.

Lol love, Miles. Love.

But this war for Sonic undermines the game of war.
War is a strategy game.
It's not meant to be violent.
In fact, the game of war is chess.
Such is where espionage comes in to play.
Or into play.
But when the war is for Sonic (The All Seeing Eye), there are no secrets.
It pains sound to not be heard.
If you trust sound with your secrets, the world will hear it.

It's been so hard to keep the secrets of Eminem.
It was a confidential conversation, and I won't share the details on the blog.
I'll let him confess it on the mic.
But dammit, no one knows my struggle to keep secrets.
I try to be faithful, seeing as how any and every woman can see my life.
But any and every woman could get it.
And... well, that.

I want women to go to war over me.
I want to be the Egyptian heartthrob I was told I was/am.
I want to be The New Egyptian Lover.
Granted, I can't handle the beautiful women provided by Egypt/SEGA.
I'll just love them "with all my might."

Doom is a game.
A video game, too.
But the characters you shoot in the video game are actual beings in real life.
Of whom can doom you.
Be your end until you see your end.
That's right Dil and Gio, y'all are video game characters.
And people shoot you to get to the next level.
I first played Doom at Tyrone (Black the Beast)'s house.
I was entranced by it.
But I found myself sympathizing with those I was killing.
So I lost a lot.

Then I played Diablo.
And I vowed to never be doomed again.

Sonic 2, Diablo and Sypon Filter are my 3 favorite games.

I can be your doom.
In the best and worst way possible.
And I wouldn't leave a scratch on you.

Revenge is a strategy game like war.
But it usually has humor behind it.
Revenge is actually a goal.
So I guess that's the intensity of hockey.
But once you get revenge, you have to constantly watch your back.
The video game version of this is WCW/nWo Revenge.

Only on Nintendo, ironically.

So I guess I don't have access to much information about it, as I could care less about Mintenso.

Do it.

Long is a digitally physical representation of conversation.
No further explanation needed.

There are more founding father-esque games.
All of which open your eyes and mind to ancient secrets.
Some were products of Atari.


But SEGA was always around.
They lived as a secret.
As kings and queens in Africa.
As slaves in the Southern Hemisphere of The USA.
And now, as the only topics of conversation.

Let the conversation be of wealth, nevertheless.

With the above being stated, I play no games.
Worship is not a game.
I have many harsh opinions, and seeing as how I'm worshipped, the scars they could leave may be too deep.
But I'm not John Nintendo.
Maybe I am...
If so, I apologize to all for my shortcomings and indiscretions of yesteryear.
But no.
I am not responsible for the downfall of men and the demeaning of women.
But I want worship.

The 6 in me wants it, just to shun it and keep you in suspense for when I actually give in.
3 wants to cry in the arms of humanity.
As you cry tears of overwhelming emotion.
5 (Sonic) doesn't give a fuck, but would like some big names shout outs.
I have my reasons.

StarChasers, I don't want to be homosexual.
I contacted the man I slept with yesterday, to remind him he's special.
I only crossed the line with him because he pierced the armor of my heart.
Not with game.
Not by flirting.
But by explaining to me that my pain isn't ignored.
He is a beautiful individual.

Nothing more to say about that.
Ladies, if that turned you on, it's Y'ALL fault men are gay.
If it makes you want to stop reading/listening to my music, I can't stop you.
I would just rather be upfront than be a nigga on the done low.

It's not easy showing my face in church.
My sin won't allow me to look into the eyes of the righteous.
However, they are private with their sins.
Almost every churchgoing male is a faggot.
Almost every churchgoing female is a slut.
There is a difference between a man/woman of God ((or -GA) and a churchgoing male/female.
A man/woman of God fears God and is defined by their faith.
A churchgoer simply attends service to mask their demons.

This blog is meant to let my demons run free.


Be it Satan or God (SEGA) I have been blessed and cursed with the gift of music.
My fear is that my endeavors into homosexuality may cause me to lose my gifts.
Granted Kanye is a faggot and he makes music considered to be classic.
And if Kanye is Dilla (which I highly doubt), then I will personally give Ye a bj, scoop his left ball, and apologize profusely.
But even if Kanye is Dilla, he still has to answer for his tendencies.

"Don't wanna lose what I had as a boy..."
-Incubus, "Love Hurts"

I want to win the war for Sonic the Hedgehog.
So much so, I want to BE Sonic.
I want me.
Then I want all of SEGA.
Then I want acknowledgement of The Illuminati.
Then I want the admiration of women.
Finally, I want the extinction of men.

And I love trannies.

The Socratic Doomer
This summer.

~follow the buzzards~

Sunday, 5 February 2017

As you sleep...

Shadow lurks.
Or faggots lurk.

"Faggots are not allowed to look at my ass while I'm onstage. (If) you don't know where the faggot section is, you better keep movin'...."
-Eddie Murphy, "Delirious"

~follow the buzzards~

Who's winning?

I'm not watching the Super Bowl.
Shit's been different since the death of Steve McNair (Go Titans, Go!).
The Browns aren't going anywhere.
Neither is Arizona.
And... I just can't get down with the Giants or Jets.
So yeah.
There's that.

Okay so, ONE, but I still need people to talk to.
And bitches to fuck.
I'm SUPPOSED to have a girl, but she's ...

"I don't know!"
-Drake, "Bitch Is Crazy"

So there's that.

I lovelovelovelove blogging from the toilet.
It's like, the shit I could and want to say gets flushed, while the intellect gets published.

Unlike the thought process of anyone nowadays.

Feel that.

The Socratic Doomer
This summer.

~follow the buzzards~

All I've ever looked for...

...was a shout-out.

Jack did it.

Jack won.

~follow the buzzards~

Freedom Song

I did it.
I got justice for you.
It could cost me everything.
But it's 4.
Make sure you don't ever forget it, Jack.


I kinda have to let them out, since there's NO ONE ELSE IN EXISTENCE, but may you have some peace of mind for a while.

But you're Ryan.
Which sucks.
Like, really sucks ass.

I don't like Ryan.
For many reasons.
Some selfish.
Some family related.

But other than that, yeah.


...the things I do for SEGA and justice.

~follow the buzzards~

Every night?

I can't trust life with my eyes closed.

~follow the buzzards~

The horny elephant.

Sex and I are close.
Monogamy and I don't get along.
But I've been trying.
Figures the girls I cheat on stay and the girls in faithful to leave.
So I'm faithful for a short amount of time.
I just give as much love as I could throughout the relationship.

I might regret the above someday.

Moving on.

I think I mentioned this, but StH: Boom and The L Word: Off the Hook! are complete.
Hard work.
Alas, the only album to be released this year is The Socratic Doomer.
Might be the last one.
Just depends on...
Well, a few things.
The main thing is the reception this album will get.

I put a lot of work into my music.
It offends me when people (humans) say I should "sit down and work on a well-thought out album".
Who the hell are you?
You're not paying for it, and you weren't in the studio, so who are you to judge the quality based on the output rate?
Further, so many people praise Lil B, and his quality of work is questionable.

I think criticism is based on the lack of appreciation for my intelligence.
Just because Sonic is quiet doesn't mean he isn't thinking.
Or can't think.
Or doesn't think.

Or doesn't have anything to say.

Blue Moon is a helluva beer.

Okay, so...
I plan to drop one song a month for the year.
I'm still waiting to hear about the success/failure of this retail album.
That, plus I put out a lot of music already.
Such leads to me being the butt of jokes from people who are bored or just want me for their own personal reasons.

They look like faggots to me, but what do I know?

Grow up, rappers.
Funnier, since everyone's a rapper nowadays.

I'm surprised I haven't mentioned this before.
I hear MF DOOM is interested in working with me!
Now if I can only figure out if the source is EVER telling the truth...

It's like that.
Especially on this business.
A bunch of "we'll keep in touch"es and "I'll get back to you"s.

Go watch the "AutomaticClassic" video (Enjetic), contact him, work with him, and I'll be living in my own... zone.

~follow the buzzards~

Saturday, 4 February 2017

The Rise of Enjetic

Big ups to Long Island!
So far, Strong Illie has produced about 6 emcees I deem worthy of galactical attention.
First there was SKE the Heistman.
Then Spud Mackneasy.
Before them, there was my Brick Oven family.

But now, there's Enjetic.
He writes in his head as well.
Has a great singing voice.
Very easy to work with.
Very eager to work.
And he has a message.

He currently is plotting on taking on the political arena.
He started AMA (Asking Myself Association), an anti-bullying coalition.

This song, "AutomaticClassic", is a song about the heroin epidemic in Long Island.
But I'll let you (the listener) decide who and what he's talking about.
It's on Smart Water, a project we recorded and released last year.
I'm currently shopping a deal for him.

To contact Enjetic, email him at enjetic1989@gmail.com

Do it for the kids.

~follow the buzzards~

She slithers...

Her fingertips were the lullaby of my proudest high school years.
The taste of her sour leaves me breathless.
The sin of what's between us motivates me to elevate all.
But you are The Devil.
And I'll do anything for you.

She slithers.
She slithers her way into my taste.
She slides for me.
She slips into something more comfortable.

She wants to die in place of me.


I could be wrong.
But you are The Devil.
And I'll do anything for you.

Just don't tell God.

Unless we can tell her together.

When lips meet tongue, and when air gets blown, it makes a melody.

Like this.

Let's go.

Oh yeah.
And Timbaland.

Hello, Sarcasm.

Thanks for reading.

~follow the buzzards~

MTV Jams (Maury Talk, Visciously)

Now, now, DanjerFace.
As your mother calls you, DanjerBox.

Daddy loves you.

I just can't wait to see you.
Without the technicalities of formalities.

Please be my daughter.
If not, you're bad, but I can't spare the energy.

Everything goes to music.


~follow the buzzards~

Nada Surf official lyrics

(verse 1)
"I can't believe it's not butter!", when referring to the flow. Niggas swear they murderin' my flow! Like, no! I know how to do it! I just don't like to do it often. So, move off the block when I get Lofton with it. Number 7 from Cleveland, nigga. Better believe a nigga when ain't reading, nigga. Who's this Indian chick now ridin' my dick? She look like her thighs are kinda thick, but I'm tryna spit. So I'll ignore you. And come back when it's time to. 'Cause I don't know the context, and I don't know what to rhyme to.  (me) "But I'm having mad fun!" (SEGA) "It's not enough. Gotta get a lot of love, until I get a love of my own." So roll up and get in the zone, while a nigga like to spit these freestyle poems. Peace out, hoes. You need now know who the greatest of all time is. With his freestyling prose.

Not enough.
Sometimes too much is
not enough.
Not enough.
Sometimes too much is
not enough.
Not enough.
Sometimes the rush is
not enough.
But let me tell you.
It's been a long time!
(sometimes I wonder)
It's been a long time!

(verse 2)
I learned how to rap from Beck. Now, I disrespect rap every time I rap from the head. Like, "Y'all can't possibly get better than this, so talk your jewels and 'Versace!' ...while I rap to this little Punjabi!". And she might be Egyptian. Just depends on the lobby: that little folder on my hard drive that "got me". It's crazy how I'm esoterically talking to me, while y'all are TERRIBLY talking to me. Yo. Off the leash goes this little beast (idiots, trying to get with me). It's really hard to get with a dude who's really bizarre and wishing beats to come back and kick frees for him. So now, beat! Can you spit what I spit? 'Cause I don't think you can... you're stupid, and I don't give a shit. 'Cause I made you. I'm like a bad parent. (laughter) just get mad while you're staring.

Not enough.
Sometimes too much is
not enough.
Not enough.
Sometimes too much is
not enough.
Not enough.
Sometimes the rush is
not enough.
But let me tell you.
It's been a long time!
(sometimes I wonder)
It's been a long time!

(verse 3)
Here's the moral: if you don't have enough, then grab enough. And rap till it's enough. But, since most rappers don't give a fuck what I spit, I don't give a fuck either. Let me in a mosh pit. It's not enough to make the beat. (It's) not enough to spit. It's not enough to mix. It's not enough to be on your own dick. So hold it, for a moment or two. While I try spit a poem to you. I feel like I'm frozen in the booth, because all my thoughts are (just) stable. (and) Sterile. I don't care as long as Meriyl-Lynch... or Meriyl Streep just comes through and BARELY carries me over the street while I'm 6-feet deep (on E). Just like that one time when I fought a Mali. Then I fought a dude. Then I ended up outie. In the hospital. Wow-ie! Smoking on California. I'm Audi. Fuck it.

Not enough.
Sometimes too much is
not enough.
Not enough.
Sometimes too much is
not enough.
Not enough.
Sometimes the rush is
not enough.
But let me tell you.
It's been a long time!
(sometimes I wonder)
It's been a long time!

Winter Rush.
Still online.

Ask for it by name.

~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 3 February 2017

Send feedback

So I JUST sent The Socratic Doomer to SEGA.
I have ties to the infrastructure.
Now, I don't have to drop it at all.
The right people are listening.
If I do decide to drop it (July 17th, 2017), I'm sure it would end up leaked before then, so you're gonna want more.

Well SEGA, the ball is in your court.

Will you follow the bizarre "anti-leak" policy of Jeff (or Jay)?
Will you NOT EVEN ASK if you can drop it on your own?
Will you undermine the wishes of mine of which you don't even know I have?

Will you even listen?


I spoke with HamilVision's Markus, and ...I got a chance to reprimand him for being a doomer.
Someone who is getting pleasure out of my SEGA-driven insanity.
He assured me he wasn't trying to doom me, and that he feels we deserve more recognition for our work.

And I wholeheartedly agree.

HamilVision has been around LONG before MVGenerator (no shade).

However, MVGenerator IS SEGA.

So maybe we inspired our maker.


I may be going on tour with Mod Sun pretty soon.
He’s a great guy.
I had my reservations about him, I’ll admit.
It’s not easy to trust …anyone.
Nonetheless a rapper who says their inspired by me.
Shouts to Catfish and The Bottom Feeder.
But he seems genuine.
He picked up bars I thought went unappreciated.

So y'all can stop asking me for my favorite J Dilla song/instrumental.

I'm ghost for now.

White people, stop trying to access my GMail account.

Or is it YOU, White-thing-I-don't-believe-exists...?


~follow the buzzards~

What if...

Wouldn't it be awesome if Drake was a Hamiltonite?
Even better... what if he was a StarChaser?
What if Drake was the ally sent to remove the Cancerous cell of Trey Songz from music?

I refuse to believe Trey Songz looks better than me.
But ... *she* likes him.

Did he rape *her*?

If so, he's as bad as *her*.

And must be added to my record collection.


And no Drake, I don't go to industry parties.
I'm never invited, the girls are bad and bougie, the guys are ball-less, and the music SUCKS.

Jimmy I., where you at?


I might be too good for the mainstream.


~follow the buzzards~


I'm going to win at life.

~follow the buzzards~

The X Factor

I love The X Files.
Truly a great franchise.
They've always been in tune with ... what I ALWAYS been talking about.

Scully is Silver (with her fine ass).
Mulder is J Dilla.

If you're looking for me, I'm in the studio.
If you're looking for the truth, you ARE the truth.
You're just on a goose chase.
A wild one, at that.

Moving on.

Out of love and respect for the hedgehogs, I stopped eating pork.
But FUCK I need a pork chop with some gravy on top.

I like/love hot wings.
My uncle and I used to go HAM on Hot Wings Cafe in LA.

Alas, there's something wrong with food.
And only J Dilla knows the truth.
It's not easy eating food nowadays.
Not even home-cooked meals.
Food is basically the bodies of broken (read: GAY) men.
Milk is semen.
Chocolate is poop.
Thus making my hidden orgasm device, Oreos, wack.


I said it.
It's off my chest.
Now, do what thou wilt with such information.

Thank you, J Dilla.
I will continue to share your gospel.

Or maybe I shouldn't.
Maybe I should just NOT say anything, anymore.

As long as I got Scully and Mulder watching my back (or hunting me), I can be free to talk.


~follow the buzzards~

Bow Down, Now...

And this is one of the reasons why I worship James Yancey.
I got love for SV, but I NEED Dilla.
To survive.
And since God is merely a memory of mine, and Satan could be upon us...

Here we go.

God, "where you at?! Uh-huh!"

~follow the buzzards~

To Pete Rock...

Now that I've cooled off, I want you to know that I genuinely love you and your work.
Not everyone deserves a spot in my heart.
And (lol) no, I don't plan to destroy you.

I think you're awesome.

I just worship J Dilla.

Don't knock such.

~follow the buzzards~

Exclamation point!

The subconscious is merely a conjecture.
At least certain moves down there.
Do you even know what you're doing?
Who you're hurting?

Off that.

Good morning!

I find it so difficult to not release music.
It's a true addiction to serve people too notch product.
Now I know how hustlas feel.
But yeah.
Seeing as how I love to serve, I know what's best for a StarChaser.
And believe.
I blacked with TSD.

Very early, not much to say, and kinda confused, so this is it for now.
All I will say is, maybe I'm what I find wrong with everything.

~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 1 February 2017

(raises head)

Sorry, Black people, for calling you niggers.
I'm just frustrated.

When am I gonna get honored?

Well, since I can't count on my hard work counting for anything, I'll just go back to being conceited.

I'm a Baddie.
If I mention you on this blog (from now on AND since jump street), it's either to remind myself to destroy you, or let the world know I love you.

Pour your own poison.

~follow the buzzards~

In my "bag"...

Just LEAVE ME ALONE and let me worship Dilla, forefathers of hip-hop and up-and-coming Black people!

I probably did this to myself.
I miss you, J Dilla.

"This.. is.. no... ordinary love..."

It's time for my medication.

I'm gonna be staying off this blog for a little bit.

The Socratic Doomer
After this, ALL you niggers get to shine/eat/whatever you call it when The Master allows you to feed off his scraps.

See: "Hoodlum"
(the movie)

~follow them, damnit!~

Online laxative(s)

That last blog post had some rage in it!
I'm glad I got some of that stuff off my chest.
All y'all niggas over there (in the fine print, as I like to call it), get it together.
Know who the hell you are before you try to jeopardize who I am.

I believed/KNEW I was Charles Hamilton, WAY before I was introduced (in this lifetime) to Sonic.

Let not my love for the anthropomorphic be my downfall.

In the blink of an eye, ya heard?

And now, I feel better.

Sonic, I love you.
Stay with me.
Stay me.
Everyone else, you have some serious decisions to make.
It's the difference between doom and freedom.

Jail is doom.
Halo's room is doom.
Sciryl's bars are a doom.
Kesed's poetry is a doom.
Aja's poetry is a doom.
Bard High School Early College is a doom.
FDA (after school) is a doom.
CLEVELAND is a doom.

See, I've been around doom all my life.
But... check this out?
I'll go back to all the above EXCEPT jail (because there goes your freedom) if it means I can be myself.
I can't be me around y'all.
Sure I've mistreated myself.
But y'all (some; the "some" everyone is trying to reference in common conversation) only throw dirt on my already nailed-shut coffin.

By being yourself.
An action I've asked you to do from the jump.

If only I knew you being yourself would be to my detriment.

But I still love you.


If it means you get ratchet, you'll become more of what I love.

Everyone knows Bull O'Conner loved some Black tail.

~follow the buzzards~

Black History's Blunt pt. 4: "This is a warning..."

(from Wikipedia)

Patrick Denard Douthit (born January 15, 1975), better known as 9th Wonder, is a hip hop record producer, record executive, DJ, lecturer, and rapper from Midway, North Carolina, U.S. He began his career as the main producer for the group Little Brother in Durham, North Carolina, and has also worked with Mary J. Blige, Jean Grae, Wale, Jay-Z, Murs, Drake, Buckshot, Chris Brown, Destiny's Child, J. Cole, Kendrick Lamar, Erykah Badu, Ludacris, Mac Miller, David Banner, Lecrae, Jill Scott, Big Boi, Rapsody, and Anderson .Paak. As of 2010, 9th Wonder raps under the name of 9thmatic.

9th Wonder has a smooth and soulful production style that relies on samples from artists such as Al Green and Curtis Mayfield. He attributes the bass lines that he uses in production to DJ Premier, Pete Rock and J Dilla, while he claims to have learned the sampling of "Wails and moans" from other works of music and where to position them in his songs from RZA.
That's step one to this blog entry.

(from Wikipedia)

Shawn Corey Carter (born December 4, 1969),] known professionally as Jay Z, is an American rapper, businessman, and investor. Formerly known as Jay-Z, he is one of the best-selling musicians of all time, having sold more than 100 million records, while receiving 21 Grammy Awards for his music. MTV ranked him the "Greatest MC of all time" in 2006. Rolling Stone ranked three of his albums—Reasonable Doubt (1996), The Blueprint (2001), and The Black Album (2003)—among the 500 greatest albums of all time. In 2014, Forbes estimated his net worth at nearly $520 million, making him one of the richest hip hop artists in the U.S.

Jay Z co-owns the New York 40/40 Club sports bar, and is the co-creator of the clothing line Rocawear. He is the former president of Def Jam Recordings, co-founder of Roc-A-Fella Records, and the founder of the entertainment company Roc Nation. He also founded the sports agency Roc Nation Sports and is a certified NBA and MLB sports agent. As an artist, he holds the record for most number one albums by a solo artist on the Billboard 200 with 13. He has also had four number ones on the Billboard Hot 100, one as lead artist. In 2009 he was ranked the tenth-most successful artist of the 2000s by Billboard as well as the fifth top solo male artist and fourth top rapper behind Eminem, Nelly, and 50 Cent. He was also ranked the 88th-greatest artist of all time by Rolling Stone.

Jay Z married American R&B singer Beyoncé in 2008. Their daughter, Blue Ivy Carter, was born on January 7, 2012.
Step two, complete(d).

9th is a very influential producer.
In fact, he's a nice guy.
I met him in DC during the Inauguration of Obama.
We shared a laugh about collecting records.
But in the industry, he has a bad reputation for being ...callous.
I haven't experienced the dark side of 9th Wonder, but I'm aware it exists.

I believe he's in my blood line.

Why did I post information about Jay(-Z) on a potential post about 9th?

No matter how "big" Jay gets/got, he wasn't on ANYONE'S radar until the 9th Wonder-produced "Threat".
It was the first time he took on an Internet-buzzing producer's work and REALLY went in.
9th was HUGE in the 'burbs.
Almost Em status with whiteboys.
Dilla was a rarity, both online and in record stores.
The Alchemist was working with artists deemed "too gutter" for suburbia, despite his suburban upbringing.
Primo and PR were also "unaccessible".
9th was SoundClick's superstar.

So when Jay hopped on a 9th beat, it made everyone wake up to the forceful ambiance of Jay-Z.
Like, "introducing to some, presenting to others" type shit.

On the flipside, Jay is an A-list celebrity.
It was a great look for 9th to be featured on The Black Album.
Say what you will about his (ahem) ventures outside of music/philanthropy.
He's made his mark in the mainstream.

These two working together signified Black solidarity.
They both (TECHNICALLY) started from the bottom.
But no one can deny the chemistry displayed on that record.

9th has remixed Jay's work many times since "Threat".
But they should've and should record a collaborative album.
For the culture.

BEYOND the Black-man shells of Jay-Z and 9th Wonder belies a gut-wrenching story, involving both SEGA and Nintendo.


I'm Atari!

I don't have to talk about SHIT!!!!


The Black Market (of which 9th and Jay dwell) has left me confused and heartbroken.
I can sit here and tell you Jay-Z is Madonna/Mary Nintendo.
I can sit here and tell you 9th is the mother of Mary Nintendo.
At the same time, I can tell you they are both Reptilians, trying to survive in a not-so-reptilian friendly Earth.

But why?

On a personal front, they've been douches to me.
On a professional front, I don't even exist to them.

Well, maybe 9th can get a pass.
He smiled and shook my hand.
But with 9th being (name censored for MY OWN DAMN SANITY), I still hold resentment for certain "disciplinary actions".

I never disrespected you, 9th.
No matter how many times Egypt told me to.

As far as Jay, that's Jeff.
As much as I WANTED to admire him, he made it hella difficult when we lived together.
I have a standard for living.
It doesn't have to be understood by ANYONE.
So NO ONE has the right to enter the place I dwell and TELL ME HOW TO LIVE.
Or that I need to live life "the right way".

Nigga, you sold crack.
Nigga, LOOK WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO (name censored for MY OWN DAMN SANITY).

Don't tell me my mysticism disturbs your feng shui.
I left you and that world THE FUCK ALONE.

Neither of you know the voices I hear.
If you can't already hear them.
BOTH of you have and can benefit off/from me.

Not to Hov it, but THIS IS MY WORLD.

This is about Black love.

So, to my brothers 9th Wonder and Jay-Z, I salute you.
I just would like to see you guys work together again.

9th, props for the chops.
Jay, thanks for the flow.

It's safe to say you two are forefathers of post-apocalyptic Hamiltonian music.

"Don't let it go to your head, no..."

Warning, issued.

Not like there's much I can do.
They're family.

~follow the buzzards~

Black History's Blunt pt. 3: "Aw-Eeh!"

(from Wikipedia)
Christopher Edward Martin (born March 21, 1966), better known by his stage name DJ Premier (also known as Preem, Premo, or Primo), is an American Record Producer and DJ, and was half of the hip hop duo Gang Starr—alongside the emcee Guru—and forms half of the hip hop duo PRhyme, together with Royce Da 5'9". For its 20th-anniversary issue in 2008, The Source selected DJ Premier for its list of the 20 greatest producers in the magazine's history. He also made the finals in Vibe magazine's 2010 search for the greatest hip hop producer of all time—he finished second after Dr. Dre received 62 percent of the votes. DJ Premier hosts a weekly two-hour show, Live From HeadQCourterz, on Sirius Satellite Radio's Hip-Hop Nation every Friday. DJ Premier served as one of the three curators for the soundtrack to the video game NBA 2K16, alongside DJ Khaled and DJ Mustard.
I met DJ Premier at the 2015 BET Cypher.
I was already blimp high.
So when I saw him walk up, I just froze.
My rapidly beating heart just stopped.
I felt like I had achieved something.

And he knew my name.
And my work.

So yeah.
I was done.

Management told me to write a verse, to make sure it was fire.
I flatly refused.
I rolled up, listened to the assigned beat, and swore I was gonna (a) fuck the shit out of Tink, (b) be taller than Joyner Lucas and (c) outshine the lil trap nigga.
But before I even spit ONE BAR, Primo called my name.
And said, "You gotta go in."

Dead ass.

I gave my lil Sonic grin, but still.
It was like The Undertaker threatening Brock Lesnar.

There it is.

(the video isn't showing up at the time of writing this, but above is/was the 2015 cypher with me, Tink, Joyner, and the young trap nigga)

He's responsible for ... well, let's say it like this.
If you're worth anything in hip-hop, you have to meet and work with DJ Premier.
Flat out.
He can sum up your life with his cuts and scratches.
And then END YOUR LIFE with the beat itself.
But what needs to be noted is his mixing.

Don't worry.
I will talk about RZA in the near future.
But this is Primo's time.
And DJ Premier can mix his Houston ass off.

And, if SEGA means anything to you, he's Mystic.
Which is jaw-breaking, because Mystic is drop dead gorgeous.
Basically, Primo was the original sample to my song, "Based On Feeling".
From "My Brain Is Alive".

Back to the BET cypher.

It meant a lot to me that Primo knew my name.
Made me wonder who else knows about me.
Don't laugh.
I get high.
And paranoid.
And lonely.

He asked (between takes) if I had a project dropping.
I told him yeah, but I wasn't confident in the process.
He said he was looking forward to it.

Seems like I impressed an icon.

All I wanted to do.

~follow the buzzards~