Tuesday, 31 January 2017

To StarChase...

This is around the hour when the stars start to dwindle in the night sky.
They wink at those staring.
They gaze at those wishing.
They hate on those hating.
Hate only begets hate.

So Harlem...
Why is hate the new love?
Is this all Kay Slay's fault?
Haters can't be lovers.
But if they could be, would you fuck the shit out of a hater?
Would it feel good?
Would you feel good, after?

I don't understand the motives of some of you.
It seems like you want me to stress over ONLY YOU.
Which sucks.
Admittedly, I still visit that Kanye thread about me.
Just to see what they're saying.
Some of the drawn conclusions are so off that it feels like an insult.

I remember how much hate I was getting in 2014.
Not just from y'all on KTT.
But from the whole damn world.
It seems like suicide is the only way out.
Then again, Don Cornielius committed suicide, and it seemed like no one cared.
The last thing I want is to commit suicide and not be cared about.

Maybe I am a narcissist.

With that being said, I'm going back to the beats.
I got A LOT of work to do this year.
Which isn't to say I haven't been working hard already.

Peace.














~follow the buzzards~

Sunday, 29 January 2017

StH: Boom

Now in production.
But, with The Socratic Doomer being the last project you'll hear from me, will you hear it?
Do you even want to hear it?

How much do you love SEGA?

Better question:
How much do you love Sonic?














~follow the buzzards~

Why am I posting this on my blog?


^
^
^
Do I miss her this much?
Fuck it.
Gotta hit the studio.
Got some ...ideas.
INSPIRATION, if you will.

Aight.
Ghost.










~follow the buzzards~

I love you, J Dilla...


^
^
^
...and I want you to love me, too.
Thank you sir.
I think you are beyond amazing.
See?!
LOOK WHAT YOU GOT ME DOING!!!

I'm out.
Off to the studio.






~follow the buzzards~

A freestyle.


^
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^
"I remove it when I move in. No assumin'."
-Charles Hamilton





~follow the buzzards~

Esme vs. Simone (Porter)


^
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^
A product of Esme's everpresent love.




^
^
^
A product of missing Simone (Porter).













Baddie...

























~follow the buzzards~

Hath thou forgotten...

...how FIRE this video/song/record/album is?!



^
^
^
Unforgiven.
Still online.
Shouts to The Chrises (Smith and Elston).
Chris Young, you don't want to be one of them.
I'm sure of it.

Happy Sunday!!!



















~follow the buzzards~

Anarchistic Revival official lyrics ("everywhere I go...")



(verse 1)
I hate me. I rape me. I was raped. Time to hate. Lately, I haven't been getting raped. If I've been getting raped, then I've been lied to. It's an 8. Minus 2. Then I say, "I'm late". 'Cause I'm not the guy who runs the tri-state. And, how is it a 3? WHY ARE YOU VIBING WITH ME?! I thought it was 4. Philly included. Feel me, 'cause this moment is the movement. Add Detroit (and) you add 5. Black lies. In the back of my mind, I wonder if it's past my time. I'm the guy who has to shine. And I'm the guy who's shining for the guy who's shining. And the guy who's shining is the guy who's rhyming. I don't find it. I define it when I find it. And I am "not it". But I am nodding. While I'm nodding. I told you while I'm not a problem, I am a problem. It's wild. I got a problem. It's 'cause I'm not ME, and I'm not a problem.

(Hook)
Everywhere I go.
I always think about you everywhere I go.
I always think I see you everywhere I go.
But do I need to need you, everywhere I go?
I gotta see, so let me go...

(verse 2)
Egypt. I love you. Loved you, too. Fuck witchu. Nobody can fuck with what we do. But it's and it's up to ...who? And I gotta do what for who? Sacrifice this fucking clue and I'm stuck with being... well, 2. "And what are you up to?", says the dude who's been reading and writing. I see that it's lightning. I need to be frightened. "He is exciting!" And I am the *he* I'm liking. And I am the *he* who's been liked. And I ain't been liked by the *hes* of the guys who need Jesus Christ to be on the mic. And I'm nicer than Jesus when I write with a thesis. He only got quoted. Meaning, what was spoken was written. And what's spoken ain't written. I hope you notice it. If you don't, you know what you need to give. I can see you. I can see within. But can you see me when I grin?

(Hook)
Everywhere I go.
I always think about you everywhere I go.
I always think I see you everywhere I go.
But do I need to need you, everywhere I go?
I gotta see, so let me go...

(verse 3)
Yo. Let me carve. Let me just die. Let me get SKE out of my mine. He's a great guy. He can rhyme. I bit his style. I'm not as nice as him, but in a while he'll probably have a little child. Like TD Jakes would say. Take away *sex* and you'll be given a break today. I take *sex* away, as The Scorpion. Hopefully with music, I don't need force again. I didn't use force then, didn't force Him (me) to be Him-ly when on the m-i-c, but he listens to me. Probably nothing more to say, but listen to me. It's a glorious day. Because I'm still alive, and speaking. I'm dying and creeping inside, and wishing I was dying while speaking. But I am the reason why I'm speaking. I denied the guys who I be with because I am not defined by three sixes.  I'm Moor-er for the beat. Believe me. It's hard to be far while I sleep. It's hard to be scarred when I'm wide awake and it's easy to be scarred while I lie, awake. I lie away. Hi to Dre. Bye to they. Hi, they. Right back. Back-back-B(ey). And if it's a bi- or bae... fuck it. I'm high anyway.

(Hook)
Everywhere I go.
I always think about you everywhere I go.
I always think I see you everywhere I go.
But do I need to need you, everywhere I go?
I gotta see, so let me go...

(outro)
I just wanna know... well, you know what? I don't even have to know why. I already know why. It's always best to stay in the mind. Unfortunately, we walk amongst the physical. I figured things out a while ago. I ain't figure me out yet. And I've been judged and persecuted... insulted... for so long. So... I'm ready to whenever. If I'ma stay, things can't stay the same.

And then? I don't even care no more. But I did see a vision. Sonic the Hedgehog, forever. Silver the Hedgehog, forever. SEGA, forever. Shadow, you're guilty. Unforgiven. But I love you.













Feel this.



















~follow the buzzards~

Ralph Nader official lyrics (dedicated to Jack Splash)



(verse 1)
"It's alive, Igor!" FUCK is y'all niggas hatin' on me for?! You need to retort! At least look up what the word is... you don't understand why you hate me, you virgins! Is it 'cause I had my fingers inside some sloppy seconds that y'all niggas say I gotta be reckless and check 'em? Fuck you! I'm tired of you niggas! Niggas is liars and now I'm firing you niggas! I'm Jobs! Stevie! Like, you can't see me! Hard to believe me when I'm speaking! Why? Because I present you with lies... because I know the truth. Argue with me, since you know it, too. Oh you don't?! Sorry, this little ol' booth is the only thing holding me back from not being couth. But fuck niggas. They don't wanna see it through. But I love people who believe in this dude... let's go!

(verse 2)
For the record, THANK YOU JIMMY IOVINE! The only person who does not believe I can NOT be someone bigger than the Eminem guy. Since he was "fly", in the eyes of niggas who was tryna die. I'm not trying to be fly. I was used to getting grounded. My mom used to found me the reason why "Bound (2)" is bounty. Clean up a mess. And I was the biggest mess. (I) didn't "steam up in the steps" when I was younger, but when I got older I wiccame a stoner. And now, people are looking at me with a boner. I smoke until I get into a coma. What? Is it because you think I'm a loner that I don't have a diploma of owning motherfuckers and their "diplomacy"? No one's owing me nothing, 'cause no one's knowing me. I know the deepest secrets of everyone. Like Social Security. You know, 'cause you're hearing me.

(verse 3)
I love making music. The simplest fact(s). Nothin' better than getting out the booth and hearing you track, after you just ripped it into places of which a track could skip if you make a crack in the CD. ACTUALLY BITING ME, as seen on TV. "Cable In The Classroom". MAD cool. But cats wanna hate on this "awesome" and "rad" dude, because I grew up in Harlem where bitches don't bag dudes. Let me turn my phone down before someone calls me, and I'll be forced to spit off beat, all week. 'Cause I could rap to this beat for the rest of my life, and then get rest until my life is arrested. By life. You know, when I die. And hopefully that won't happen anytime nigh. So while I look into the eye of the sky of the future, I hope I'm what you're used to.

(hook)
I don't give a fuck
About what people say.
I don't give a fuck
About what people say.
I don't give a fuck
About what people say.
Neither should
You.
Unless I own- ...
Unless I own them mu'fuckas!




















Hold your head, Jack.
There's love for you after all.
I think.











#4























~follow the buzzards~

My Apology to Jack Splash

I'm very biased about 4.
I've made it clear, both rambunctiously and silently, that George Massa (Madlib), James Yancey (J Dilla) and Jack Splash (Jake One) are ALL I CARE ABOUT.
However, in recent years, I have faltered.
 I allowed the forever persuasive tactics of Jay-Z influence my music (among others)
Basically, I was using Jack's rhyme style to address, diss and dismiss Jay.
So maybe I made him proud.
But I did so, under the gauze that he was gay.

Jack Splash is not gay.

In fact, I think I'm screwed for thinking so.
Even if I didn't really think it.

Shadow, I love you.
I want you to love me, too.
I'm BLUE, dammit!
Why does my depression surprise anyone?
I don't like anything but you three.

And Lisa.

But Lisa's on some other shit nowadays.
She's ... distant.
I get it, though.
"I cheated, therefore I deserve you to be leaving. And I believe in the reason."

So Jack, I'm sorry for taking your style.
I'm just waiting for the day us 4 can reunite.
In fact, that's all I want.
But still.

Matter fact?
That's it.
I just want us.

And Simone Marshall.

MAYBE Sasheer Zamata.
She's too bad for me, though.

Fine ass Daft Punk.
(grunts like I just ate a fried wing)

Jack, I love you.
Stay cool.

Pick up Uncool Uncle (Jack Splash/Bobby Caldwell) on iTunes.

Holla.






^
^
^
^
We are forever.

^
^
^
I am art.












~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 27 January 2017

As the ratchets get their tune-up...

African Child Pornography, next to The Hardest Mixtape..., was my most ratchet project.
I recorded it the same day as The Evil Microchip.
A decidedly more sophisticated album.
There's something going on in The Black Market, of which I'm not ashamed to talk about, but it would incriminate some people who I love most.
And even some I'm not so crazy about.
But The Black Market is why I'm not so crazy about them.

The things it makes you do and say, ya know?

Anyway, I made a song called "Cherry Poppin' Daddy", where I describe what it's like to be every woman's boyfriend.
I still feel like women used sex with me to empower themselves, which kinda isn't a bad thing.
I just feel like I am no longer a factor in their lives.
It's like "fuck me andbe done with me".

Sex weakens a fighter
I thought I was tough enough to fight.
Unfortunately, the heart is willing, but my body isn't.
I think I wrote a few checks my ass couldn't cash.

No homo.

If I could walk through Harlem and not get tested (which isn't to say it happens), I'd be a blessed Black man.
But they all know who I am.
Even if I'm not..

The All Seeing Eye.

Like I thought I was.

Like, it drives me crazy.
Can you NOT see through my eyes?
If you can, have I let you down?
Could you do better?

To ask the last question explains Drake's existence.
I wished (in 2009) that I wasn't on top.
Then came Drake.
I haven't bounced back since.
I took my position for granted.
Now I'm struggling.
The music is still straight (to quote my uncle), but ... I'm not taking care of myself.

The truth?
I don't want to live.
The other truth?
I don't want to die.
I want to live forever.
I thought music would be enough, and to some extent it is.
My ideologies are available for everyone to hear and develop on.
But there's something missing.

Maybe I do need more fans.
If you even exist, StarChasers.
I know sometimes I can hate you guys (stop sending me your demo tapes!!!), but I kinda need you.

But what am I to do when the void isn't the listener?
There's something missing from my life.
Being gay doesn't cover the cost.
In fact, it disgusts me to even think of myself as gay.
It just makes me hate men more.

I think I'm a reverse homophobe.
They say "don't knock it until you try it".
Well, I tried it.
And I'm knocking.
My penis was meant to be inside of one woman.
It's fun to fuck random and many women, but they walk away with your energy.
And your thought process.

To some extent, I think Scientology might be onto something.
For example: what if Mary and Jesus practiced incest?
What if a Mary move would be to wash the feet of the people who were meant to betray her?
Jesus was tempted by Satan.
Not goaded by man.

I can go on...

Alas, back to the album about ratchet behavior and the rape of John Nintendo.
I called Em a "faggot" (to counter his perpetuated homohobia), I called Nas a "pussy" (to counter the line about him being a seafood lover), and I jabbed at Kendrick for saying he's "the King of New York" (if only he knew; he might, though).
I really don't want to battle anyone, anymore.
I have my opinions, but I feel my Gothik poetry is meant to inspire the Nihilist and (shutters) obey God.

I really want God to be a woman.
I can't boy to a white, male God.
Even though our hair follicles are white.
How do we know Silver isn't the anthropomorphic creature God was based on?
I know three 6z were The Wise Men that witnessed the birth of Jesus.

Or was it Jay, Nas and Em?

Back to the beats.
For now.















~follow the buzzards~

Just like you.

I used to and still want to be just like my uncle.
Sometimes he's so strict I hate him (whiteboy problems), but he defines what it means to avoid black guy problems.
Which isn't to say he doesn't have them.
It's just, he can handle every situation.

At the same time, I want to be just like J Dilla.
Smooth, humorous and talented.

Then there's 9th.
Who's like a mummy.

I need my own place. Soon.
I want to record when I want, smoke cigs and joints, have my own Henny, and have my baddie come over.
I might even want kids (if I don't have any already).
But money is a rare commodity for musicians these days.

All I know is the price of living on your own.

HamilVision posted a cryptic message on Twitter.
I think he's giving up.
If anyone is watching the videos/listening to the music, do yourself a favor and subscribe to the HamilVision channel.
We work hard.
Some of my songs are DESIGNED for his videos (e.g. Ralph Nader, Seinging For The Fences, Fibber on the Roof).
He's a great addition to my musical arsonel.

More to say, more music to be made...

The Socratic Doomer
This summer.




And thanks for the love on my 8-bit freestyles.
Possibly more to come.











~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 26 January 2017

Brick Oven Studios: Now Open

A long time friend of mine (I met him through Jeff) Frank MIDI and I got in contact.
We plan to facilitate recording at the priceless Brick Oven.

No, not a pizzareia.


Without much needed introduction, here are the rates:

$40 an hour for recording
$60 an hour for recording and mixing
$30 an hour for pre-production
An extra $20 for assistance from yours truly (co-productions, technically).

We have GarageBand, Logic, Pro Tools and Reason.
Also a Roland GAIA Synthesizer (vintage), Korg 62-key Triton and Axiom 25-key MIDI controller.
Our mics have a Focusrite Liquid 8-channel Preamp, and are 3000 B.
Apple G5 (2 x 2.4 GHz Quad-Core Intel Xeon).
We also have an isolated recording booth.

For more information, contact us at (646) 481-6001.

I'll be around.













~follow the buzzards~

Mission ; Impossible

https://soundcloud.com/twacharlesh/valentines-day

If anyone is interested in my ventures in sound.

Recorded for you.
You know who you are.
#MyFirstBaddie

I gotchu.







~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 25 January 2017

Why she gotta do me like that?!

So there's Beyonce.
The angelic face of S.A.T.A.N.
The barbaric poet of SEGA.
God's emcee.
Satan's concubine.

Look at the mess I started.

I always thought she was extremely attractive.
As I got older and her career progressed, she became so apparent that to like her would mean to ignore her.
So that's what I did.
And Jay (seemingly) is a good catch, so those "dreams" were deferred.

While in C.A.T.S., I kept getting visions of her being a succubus.
And the more I listened to hip-hop, the more I saw how many emcees were victimized by her.

So I started summoning her.
Probably the biggest mistake, since I was (at the time) dating the most beautiful girl in the galaxy.

Simone Marshall.

(fuck your boyfriend, babe; like, don't ACTUALLY fuck him, but yeah... he sucks)

 And then, Apple.

Since everyone has seen the get down of me and Bey, things have become strained between us friends and strangers.
We don't know each other personally (minus that one picture), yet we're severely bonded.
Sometimes it's horrible.
Other times, I benefit.

I just hope it's love.

Bey, how do you feel about my music since 2012?














 







~follow the buzzards~

Tuesday, 24 January 2017

Aliens in church...

mWhat if, after I put the world in to SEGA, God spoke to me and said to go to Her?
Okay.
Now what if I told you that my pact with Satan was that if he allowed all people to go to Heaven, that I'd stay down in hell with Hin (or Her)?

Right.

That's how serious existence is.

"Conversations With God" was basically my way of ensuring that everyone makes it to Heaven.
No matter how hard you sinned.
Or what you had to do to obtain your riches.
There's no way you could pay me back.
Not even by buying my music.

So there's that.

Heineken is a great beer, but Coronas still reign as my favorite beer.
Any Corona fans (online) in the house tonight?

I can't hear you!!!

Enthusiasm is what most concert-goers are looking for.
At least the critics.
But the best performers and performances had more spirit than motion.
So rappers (if you're still rapping), you don't have to look like a baffoon on stage.
I don't want to see it as a regional thing.
But NY rappers seem to have more class on stage.
They're aggressive, sure, but they respect the crowd.

Even Angel Haze.

Shouts to you, beautiful.

I was talking with my uncle the other day.
I think I'm interested in being an A&R.
Talent just falls on my lap, like every day.

Damn.
I sound like Tori.
Must be all the telepathic psychic sex we have/had.

Okay.
Entry done.

Back to work.
















~follow the buzzards~

Monday, 23 January 2017

For my musicians and magicians.


^
^
^
One.
Last.
Album.





Change, right?














~follow the buzzards~

"I used to have big dreams..."

You know what?
I might be one of those bitter Grammy losers.
Because at this point, I don't see the point.
I was so naive about this game, despite all I know about it.
I thought all the nights of being cursed at for the sake of devotion meant I can just walk in this bitch, get my Grammy and start a family.

Well.

I since left the girlfriend I was with since I decided to get into the game.
I lost Demevolist as friends.
I lost my house and all my equipment.

"I'm a lion, on a diet, 'cause I'm broke. Shit."
-Charles Hamilton, "Ignore Ant"

I actually had millions when I wrote that bar.
I guess I'm not meant to be wealthy.

Alas, this is all my doing.
I disagreed with the process of promoting the album, so I bailed before it all took off.
But you don't understand who I am.
To do so would mean to understand why I bailed.
My power and my sight is not meant to be monetized.
You can see me, with my eyes.
You can hear me, both with my inner voice and cigarette stained voicebox.
You can feel me and my frail, underdeveloped body.

This sucks, to quote Beavis.

And, if you're looking for positive affirmations about getting in the game and following your dreams, don't.
You're dreams are merely rapid eye movement.
Sonic may be there, but there is only one Sonic.

Me.

Maybe that's why I'm going through this bullshit/bullyshit.
Knuckles, Silver, even Shadow don't go through this.
Why?
Because they are more aggressive and intimidating.

I wish I was Satan.

All must pay for the freedom I gave.

Then again, Jesus paid the ultimate price.
This could be a sign to go to God.
Be a better Christian.
Perhaps 666 has failed me.

Again.

Who am I doing this for?
StatChasers?
All y'all do is send me your demo tapes and criticize my "unwritten" work.

I have a bomb for you guys.
I only mixed Sonic the Hamilton and Intervention from The Hamiltonization process.
So all your complaints about my sound are the fault of the "professional, big-studio" engineers you BEG me to go to.

I work so hard on sound.
But I know.
I gotta go back to Sha-Leik "for the mixing and the mastering".

I spoiled the world.
And it's my appetite that's ruined.

One more album.

Take it or leave it.











~follow the buzzards~

Winter in America

The time when everyone resents The Sun, but can't wait to see it again.
Only to complain when it's in full effect.

What is "it"?
Is "it" an alien?
If so, I am not the only "it".
If not, the "it" that is seemingly pissing everyone off is being handled.
Which somehow makes me "it".

It's Charles Hamilton.

My mom used to make me feel special.
I feel like I should sign up for the Special Olympics.
I have a damn disability.
And a superpower.
Music.

I hope Karen Civil was wrong about me having Cancer.
To quote Dennis Leary, there's no cure for Cancer.
My father was a Cancer.
Is, since he's kinda still alive.

It'll be a sad day when my grandmother (Carol) passes.
Then me and my uncle would HAVE to get along.
If I dont end up moving out before then.
It's not even that we don't get along.
We're just different.
I'm sure there's things about me he doesn't like.
I fucked around and told him I'm lazy.
Such is far from the truth.
I just do t like to test my body too much.
Then, there's Beyoncé and Nicki.
So my energy goes to them.
But I know...
"You don't even know them!"

Whatever.

I see y'all like when I post the lyrics to my songs.
Cool!
I'll be doing it more often.
I have this song called "Calendar Girl" that I can't wait for y'all to hear.
It's pretty doomed out.
In fact, I have a lot of music I want you to hear.
I just don't want to put it out yet.
The Industry overdubs my music.
Fuck them for that.

My opinion:
Everything sucks and lacks soul.

My opinion might be fact.
Depends on if you still have your soul.
I really like Anderson.Paak however.
Very proud of him.

I've been toying with the idea of making an abstract album.
It might not have bars.
Just an amalgamation of sounds.
A lot of people have been asking for a strictly piano album.
I can do that.
It's just gonna cost money.
Maybe not, however.
It could be the simplest recording ever.

I'm in touch with Bob Dylan's grandson, Pablo Dylan.
I think he's really cool.
Plays the guitar like it's in his blood.
Too bad I'm broke.
Because I'd have an entire choir of kids.

"Nothing wrong with my aim..."
-Jay Z








The Socratic Doomer












~follow the buzzards~

Sunday, 22 January 2017

Damn Again lyrics


^
^
^
(verse 1)
One of the nicest, with a broom nigga! My wife is in the room, nigga! The wife is my mic! The mic isn't mine, but I'm NICE when it's DOOM, nigga! And that's the fuckin' crisis! I'm the fuckin' nicest! Holdin' on to Isis. My sis, when it's crisis. Lifeless, and I wish that I can get on my stick of a broom, enter a room (and) pick up the shoom of a chick who wishes to be giving me fumes. I'm out of oil, her pockets kinda soiled! She got a diaper on! I know she like the song, but I'm kinda wrong. I'm wifing wrong. The "right" to "wrong". Everything I write is wrong. Now, get along with me!

(hook)
Oh no!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Oh no!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Oh no!
Who's got the nightshift?
Oh no!
Who's got the nightshift?
DAMN AGAIN!
I'M THE MUTHAFUCKIN MAN AGAIN!

(verse 2)
Who got the nightshift? Like I said, I'm the nicest! I put the right fist in a video, tryna get me dough. Really though? In the city, yo... mad cops is blackin'. Matlock with action. I'm laughing but I have to stop. 'Cause that's basically blackin'. Pataki of the block. The white boy, chilling out making light noise. LightNING noise, to be exact. Every time I get on a track, I pitch crack, and it gets distributed by Universal. Like a circus. Never am I nervous. Kinda perfect. Forever am I worth it. Like Pert is.

Or is it L'oreal?


(hook)
Oh no!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Oh no!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Oh no!
Who's got the nightshift?
Oh no!
Who's got the nightshift?
DAMN AGAIN!
I'M THE MUTHAFUCKIN MAN AGAIN!

(verse 3)
I put my foot down. I look around. No book around. Just a book with a hook in it. Give a good minute of a "good look" to the book. The hood in it. Everybody watchin'! All these hoes jockin'! (waiting for your crisis) Over, again. Second time around. Blowing wind. Never am I found. I'm forever in the blowing wind, so forever am I going in. You know I win when it's time to battle. I ain't had one in a while. Just smile. I get down, and I'm kinda wild. Shout out to my whole team. Profile!


(hook)
Oh no!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Oh no!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Everybody watching!
Oh no!
Who's got the nightshift?
Oh no!
Who's got the nightshift?
DAMN AGAIN!
I'M THE MUTHAFUCKIN MAN AGAIN!












Fear the Reaper, now and still online.


The Socratic Doomer, this summer.




~follow the buzzards~

"...I broke apart my insides..."


I feel like me and my uncle might be falling out soon.
I know he wants what's best for me.
That I can go to sleep with.
But... we're too (2) different people.
He's very analytical.
I'm creative.
It's like...
He'd make for the perfect manager and I'd make for the perfect artist.
All I want to do is make music.
I'm not a bad performer.
I just don't like crowds anymore.
In fact, I never liked crowds.

Makes you wonder why I got in the business to begin with.

I got some messages today from a fan who misses the lo-fi, heavy compression sound.
Quite simply, I got nicer with compression.
You can barely hear it now.
The distortion IS THERE.
In fact, it's more metal than ever.
It's just... now it has a more futuristic cleanliness to it.

I can't turn back now.

However, I believe my final days are among us.
Musically, at least.
I might vent on the mic every so often.
Might even drop it.
But as far as dropping music in high quantities, nuh-uh.

I've spoiled you.
Now it's time to spoil myself.

If only I could spoil myself with some wealth.

I don't know what Lisa's problem is.
She's been very distant.
Might be because of the doomer incident.

Doomers!
C'mon!
I love you!
Why are you doing this to me?!
DO YOU EVEN EXIST?!!













The Socratic Doomer
This summer.



















~follow the buzzards~

Imperfect.

Some of the things I do in my personal life is for the world to see.
But I still want privacy.

I have a masturbation problem.
It's very addictive.
Perhaps... it's my 6.

This girl is probably reason for me to stop masturbating.
But she's not ready for the responsibility of my heart.

What a shame.

This year could be very quiet.
If I'm still the CEO of Apple, you have access to some great music of mine.
However, there is the privacy issue.
Which is trumped (for lack of better words) by the issue of men.
All is deaded by telepathic communication.

And my lack of ability to control my brain.

Or maybe I can control my brain.
I avoid my issues with crime and ciolence (and wonder) by staying dormant.
I don't fight.
At all.
For some reason, I have to fight Madonna.
I might not have to, but she threatens my reign.
Or, my friendship with an alien.

My favorite alien... all of my favorite aliens, come from SEGA.
But apparently, there's more.
Galaxies more.

Too bad I collect souls.

See you in July.









~follow the buzzards~

Saturday, 21 January 2017

The Retarded Six

I now don't regret getting stripped by Serj/System of a Down.
They speak truth.
They speak the truth of every musician that went to LA to make something of themselves.

I wish I wasn't victimized by the Boulevard.

"You should've never trusted Hollywood!"

I feel like a fool.
So as I approach the mic tonight, understand that I was a much happier individual.
Metal is my inner-ring tone.
So fuck hip-hop.
I will wrap this genre!

But hip-hop needs love too.
White love.

Black magick x White love







White people love each other.
Maybe it's because they don't need validation.






Alchohol poisoning.
















~follow the buzzards~

Don't


^
^
^
I previewed this song on IG.
@charleshamiltonreturns
Shouts to Sarob from Columbus.
A StarChaser I met while covering the Gears of War event with Carlito/Charlie Boy Media.
We chatted about the game (Gears) and, long story short, we ended up recording 2 songs for my production compilation, "Don't".

On this song, he's playing the role of John Nintendo.
No further questions.
Does this make him the bad guy?

While on this song, I was talking about my mystery lady.
The lady who may be Dr. Dre.
The lady who may be Lisa Palmer.
But, definitely Simone Marshall.

If I'm lucky, she might be my LONG TIME crush (and Briana's nemesis) Raven~Symone!!!

So I dedicate this song and MVGEN (Music Video Generator) to you, Raven.
And...
John?
Don't.

Will Don't ever see the light of day?
I need some artists and a studio!
Let's go!













~follow the buzzards~

Chances Are official lyrics


^
^
^
(verse 1)
I fell in love with the bottom. Spotted you there. Therefore, this has got to be fair. You gotta be near. I probably dare to take you up on your offer, right there. Quite clear, my fear resides in your eyes. And what you hear resides from the lies that I am not trying to tell. I'm tryna prevail. As long as I can. As strong as I am. Holding out my arm, just for the land (here). But is it even worth it? Y'all call me perfect, but it's y'all that I'm nervous of. And that's word to love. So just turn it up. The perfect love, what I can offer you. If only distance is how I don't have to talk to you...

(hook)
Chances are, you could be the only one to love me.
Tell me how that makes you feel.
Chances are, you could be the only one to love me.
Tell me how that makes you feel...

(verse 2)
I fell in love with the bottom. Spotted you there. I feel like you gotta be near. Looking at a lock of your hair. I cut it off, before you cut me off. Just to touch it. Because it's soft. I'm in love with your walk. Everything that you love to offer. I wanna talk to "her". You are the "her". I offer her, a walk through Fur. Since I am governed by the highest lover, I am covered by the smothering sauce of governing what's the boss. Knowing I ain't strong enough. But I hit a bong and dutch. Along they come. The problems. But I eliminate 'em when I date 'em. Don't be a problem, even though you are. And that was supposed to be a superb bar.

(hook)
Chances are, you could be the only one to love me.
Tell me how that makes you feel.
Chances are, you could be the only one to love me.
Tell me how that makes you feel...

(verse 3)
Yo Dilla. How does it feel to become a sample? Now you are real. Alive you are, even if you don't reside with the stars. Pick which one. This is The One. I make hits for fun, but the system don't acknowledge it. It's like a scholarship when you been fuckin' up. So I guess that's what's up with love. They ain't gotta toss up the name of the highest guy. I aim for the highest sky, take it by surprise and then make it my wife when I make it naked at night. So if I see you in the sky, that's cool. I laid the pipe to what you're behind. That rules! And I'm behind that fool, just minding the rules. As a man.

(hook)
Chances are, you could be the only one to love me.
Tell me how that makes you feel.
Chances are, you could be the only one to love me.
Tell me how that makes you feel...

















The Socratic Doomer

If it's not better than "Hamilton, Charles", it's my last album.
Swear to God.
So, it's on you StarChaser!
























~follow the buzzards~

Friday, 20 January 2017

No good!

Things might be the same, but things will never be the same.
This is my Earth.
My Hell.
No matter how many devils are in place and ready to reign.

That felt good to say.
Or type.

Now.
On to some other business.

Apparently, I slept on the production on "Hamilton, Charles".
I just have to keep my mouth shut until the day we're all together and celebrating... something.
Someone.

Look, dammit.
Some of the things I do is for the pending audience of worship-level doom.
Or extreme worship.
Whichever makes Halo most comfortable.

It's safe to say Halo is my best friend.
And we still don't know each other.
But what he did for me... I'm more grateful for than anything anyone has done for me.
It's truly the magick of music that brings/brought us together.
The love is there.
It's just like 2 Egyptian cats battling for the golden kitty litter.

Shouts to Bey for making the comparison.

I just had some Taco Bell.
Shit was amazing.

Food COULD be a vice for me.
Could be.
But I trust J Dilla too much to let him down for a plate of steak and macaroni and cheese.

But I love steak.

"I don't wanna, I gotta; we cookin' steaks!"
-Slum Village, "Players"

I love 9th Wonder.
He might be slightly overrated, but he does deserve attention.
So, blessings to him.

If only he could understand where said blessings come from.

I can feel my ego rising, so I'm gonna stop this post now.
Just know I'm REALLY good at music, and I'm MORE THAN correct with my theorums of the other side.
It's a war, and I chose my side.

Just... try to stop speaking through me.
Please?
I can't trust my inner voice as much as I want to.
My fear is that my inner voice is the actual voice of someone I've come across.

It's psychic too, so it could be Silver.
If not, ...Silver?


















~follow the buzzards~

And now, America at large...


^
^
^
"Oh... am I late?!"
-Kanye West, "Can't Tell Me Nothin'"




~follow the buzzards~

Stripped By Serj

My immortality is in question.
One night, while smoking weed with Chimp1, a freak accident occurred.
We were watching a video on the 10 best crossover (no disrespect) metal albums.
The first (or 10th) video was System of a Down's "Mezmerize!".

It really is a great album.

But when a producer is in the presence of another producer, they have to show off their chops.

Well, I revealed that I don't know anything about production.
And my world came tumbling down.

My 6 dropped into the mosh pit.
Serj picked it up.
The band played on.

I have officially be stripped.

My fear (other than being raped in my sleep) is System of a Down.

I fear System of a Down.
I can feel their hate.

Well producers, I will say this.
IF YOU ARE GOING TO SAMPLE, SUBMIT YOUR HEART TO MUSIC AND YOUR SOUL TO SOUND.

There.
NO more advice.

See?
Now EVERYONE is going to make CH-level beats.

This sucks.

I guess anything to get my 6 back.

Mr. Massa...
Mr. Yancey...
The Dunks...

I need you guys.

And...
it's mad hot right now.













I see you, Drump!

(to be read like an elephant noise)

























~follow the buzzards~

Sands of Project Sandboxes official lyrics


^
^
^
(verse 1)
I woke up one morning the Apple CEO. What do you know?! And I found out I got this little freaky hoe. What do you know?! She can go wherever she wanna go! I'm gon keep it 100, though. I'ma keep my music playing. What am I saying? I DON'T WANT TO KNOW! I wanna lose control, but I don't ever want to lose my soul. If I do, so? The whole globe goes to J Dilla. And you know! And this beat is so dope! I'm a schoolboy, but I'm a Rude Boy. Gotta enjoy this shit. Ensure. Like breakfast for Kanye's jaw.

(hook)
Who the fuck is doing that?
[and the bitches go]
Who the fuck is doing that?!
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.

(verse 2)
The nonsense spitting Gothic Biggie. Shit got weird when I got with Iggy. 'Cause I ended up a part of A$AP MOB. They like that crap I jot, but they don't like it when I freestyle. Neither does Mr. "Peace Out". And we know who the piece is. My peace is my thesis: I am the deepest, and anybody peeping can see it. It's time for me to get my chair and shine. Sitting in a hot chair, with dimes. Nigga I am hot here. Got hot hair, like Jackson in his prime. Only when he got that shock from Pepsi. Let's see. "What was y'all tellin' me?"

(hook)
Who the fuck is doing that?
[and the bitches go]
Who the fuck is doing that?!
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.

(verse 3)
DAYQUIL, STAY STILL! NYQUIL, I'M ILL! My skills? My pills. Try ill. I'm ill. I'm the kind of guy you would like if you ever thought about committing suicide. And (apparently) the whole world is my girlfriend, and they know it. Take note of the shit, while I'm flowing legit. Not a little schoolboy, but the flow is so sick. If you're not revolting, I'm John Travolta. Pointing out you fuckin' faggots like "Stop the stalking!" You're all on Facebook straight poking me. Pause. But not noticing me. If you walk around with my Potpourri, just watch your back for those hoes with me. Let's go!

(hook)
Who the fuck is doing that?
[and the bitches go]
Who the fuck is doing that?!
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.
This that TittiesAssHandsInThe
Air.

(bridge)
I dance to the rhythm of me.
But it seems like all of y'all are off beat.
Well, keep on dancing!
KEEP ON DANCING!


















Thank you, Steve Jobs.
Thank you, SEGA.
Thank you, Harlem.































~follow the buzzards~

My obsession is DOOM.

This post, by request of a doomer...






^
^
^
This song (record) is HARD.
StH: Rezzurrexion.
Online now.

I realize I never gave a full explanation for StH: Rezzurrexion.
Basically, on StHZERO, I died as Sonic.
I was assassinated by hood niggas who were employed by The Illuminati.
But me being Sonic, I went right into the mouth/belly of the beast and grabbed the bull by the horns.
The attack, however, happened in my sleep.

So I will never know if it took place.

#psychologicalwarfare

The Rezzurrexion occured when SEGA reassured me that they will never leave my side.

Even if I'm not Sonic.

So the first thing I did was contact Dr. Doom.
And he wrote me a letter.

"Dear Charles Hamilton,
You can make any genre of music you want. Make hip-hop.

Sincerely, 
Dr. Doom"










So with SEGA in my heart and hip-hop in my mind, I chronicled another moment in a lifetime.

As Sonic the Hamilton.





Doomers are real.
They communicate in a special way.
In a special realm.
With special intentions.
Respect them.

We are like mice.
We are more afraid of you than you are of us.
Which makes us more likely to be the blackest end of your existence.

"Dear Dr. Doom..."






I'll post the lyrics one day...










~follow the buzzards~

Thursday, 19 January 2017

For those wondering...

The discography at the bottom of my blog is in chronological order.
And there are some early projects that are missing.
So yeah.
There's that.



















~follow the buzzards~

Defensive Player of the Year (LIVE!)


^
^
^
Fat shouts Hassan (@hassanthankgod IG) for holdin' me down.
Los Angeles!
I love you!
I need you to love me too!

The Socratic Doomer

This summer.









~follow the buzzards~

Hacked.

My Facebook profile, facebook.com/TWACharlesHamilton, has unfortunately been hacked.
There is someone claiming to be Israel Cook asking for some money.
I do not know this person personally.
But it's a bad look.
I will be contacting FB in the near future to get this issue resolved.

(tries to visit the page without being logged in)

It looks as though the page has been deleted.

Oh well.

LAter today I will be posting a video of me performing "Defensive Player of the Year" on the Sunset Strip.
It's a pretty ill performance.
Just me, the beat, and the galaxy.

Shouts to H2.

Chimp1 and I made a BANGER last night.
I just might have to hold on to it.
Remember.
Only one project this year.

The Socratic Doomer

I collapsed last night.
I probably shouldn't be going so hard.
Then again, there's no other way to do it when it comes to music.

Why not give it all I got?
If only my projected audience would listen.

DOOMERS!
I'm learning more and more each day.
Don't be afraid to be in the sunlight.
I might love you more than I should.
LET ME SEE YOU!!!







Be on the look out for the DPTOY video.












~follow the buzzards~

Wednesday, 18 January 2017

Look at the night, and just keep on tokin'...

You smoke weed to chase your dreams.
Then, once you obtain your dreams, you smoke weed to ACCEPT it.
Then, you get depressed in your high, so you smoke MORE weed.
Then, you're high feels good, so you smoke EVEN MORE weed.
Then you have to pay bills, so you smoke out of stress.

Before you know it, all your money is gone and your weed habit is worse.

But do you even know where you go when you smoke?

Once I learned the destination, it became easier to cope with the high.
I just had/have to be careful who I smoke with.
As of right now, the only person I want to smoke weed with is Halo.
He's shown me some CRAZY shit in the high.

Props.

I still smoke with Chimp1 from time to time.
I'm a casual smoker.
But the high always leads to psychic disasters.

When I'm with Danny (Enjetic), I smoke with his girl.
Who's a high in herself.

Lately I've been getting a thrill from cigarettes.
It's like a high, too.
Then again, the nicotine is a killer.
I'm sure my lungs look like two Kevin Harts.

One of my StarChasers (Andrew B.) sent me a dope Cleveland Indians fitted.
I already took a pic and posted it on IG.
But if you see me (around), you'll see it.
If there's one signature I have (or want), it would be the fitted.

Today is rather quiet.
It's chilly, no sunshine, and I'm not trying to force myself to make music.
But I have to do something.

Why is it so easy to get to me?
I should be immune to the bullshit (by now).
Alas, everyone wants me to figure out who they are.
If I can't figure out who they are, I'm not The All Seeing Eye.

It's not like The Internet makes it easy.
You don't have to show your true identity.
So you can't even trust who you're looking at.

Unrelated, and *lol*, but management isn't returning my calls.
So much for them.
Eventually, and hopefully, I'll be done with this deal and I can move on.
Some folks have things lined up for me already.
And of course, I have my own company.

But what's it all for?
What's it worth, if I'm not going to bow?

This could be a previous high kicking in.
I probably shouldn't have smoked all those bongs in space.
I just thought a higher sense of consciousness was necessary to be the "captain of" the "ship".

Shouts to Dr. Dre.
Twice, actually.
Because I referenced "If I Can't" earlier.

Whatever.

I have some reading to do.
And some editing of this here blog.
Catch up (a beat), or get caught.














~follow the buzzards~

"I know that I know nothing..." -Socrates

(from Wikipedia)

Socratic method, also known as maieutics, method of elenchus, elenctic method, or Socratic debate, is a form of cooperative argumentative dialogue between individuals, based on asking and answering questions to stimulate critical thinking and to draw out ideas and underlying presumptions. It is a dialectical method, often involving a discussion in which the defense of one point of view is questioned; one participant may lead another to contradict themselves in some way, thus weakening the defender's point. This method is named after the classical Greek philosopher Socrates and is introduced by him in Plato's Theaetetus as midwifery (maieutics) because it is employed to bring out definitions implicit in the interlocutors' beliefs, or to help them further their understanding.

The Socratic method is a method of hypothesis elimination, in that better hypotheses are found by steadily identifying and eliminating those that lead to contradictions. The Socratic method searches for general, commonly held truths that shape beliefs and scrutinizes them to determine their consistency with other beliefs. The basic form is a series of questions formulated as tests of logic and fact intended to help a person or group discover their beliefs about some topic, exploring definitions or logoi (singular logos) and seeking to characterize general characteristics shared by various particular instances. Aristotle attributed to Socrates the discovery of the method of definition and induction, which he regarded as the essence of the scientific method.
^
^
^
So there's that.










~follow the buzzards~

Tuesday, 17 January 2017

To retire as Satan... [random thoughts, as usual]

I really don't like to see people hurt.
No matter how much they deserve it.
So when my throne as Satan got jeopardized, I wasn't too mad.
But alas, I have to stand up for myself.

Again and again.

I honestly just want to make music.
Everyone (else) wants me to get rich and famous.

As if that's a gauge of one's talent.

I think I'm gonna go out like every Harlem Renaissance artist (and don't think it's not spelled "rennaisance"...).
Broke, lonely, and better than all.

I hope I have a daughter.
Until it is proven than Danjer is mine, I'll just treat Ava (Lisa's daughter) as if she's my own.
With love and concern.

I really miss eating food.

I'm not sure how long I'll be living.
I'm not sure how long I'll be living with my uncle and grandmother.
I can't really record the way I want to (think: loud and metal-like), despite the fact I developed a new singing technique (jazz-like baritone, and the occasional alto).

Odd Future doesn't suck.
They just haven't figured themselves out yet.

So I had a "vision" that SEGA left me AGAIN.
This time, they left me for Woody (@WoodysProduce) and Suge Knight.
Supposedly, Woody now works for Death Row.
And Suge is out of jail.

Let me tell y'all something.
I just want you happy.
But just know that you are a trigger for me.
You are/were the only thing that brings/brought me joy.
So if you leave me, you lose.

KNOW that shit.

?uestlove is stalking me.
Either he wants revenge, or he has a crush on me.
I can't call it.

Last night, I crossed every line.
It's not even worth talking about (with my loose lips).

Things just suck.
Basically, it looks like suicide at age 30 is on the menu.
I just have to build up the courage to do it.
And I HAVE to die.
If I don't, it's back to the mental hospital.
Shit.
This blog post might get me re-institutionalized.

All this love I have.
Just waiting to be felt.

All the love there is.
Just waiting to be received.

"All this love is waiting for you..."
-DeBarge













I might not finish Don't (my compilation project, dedicated to the deconstruction of John Nintendo/Nintendo itself).
I ...(lol) don't have the desire to finish it.
And no one is reaching out with serious inquiries/talent.
Alas, if I go based on image, the entire fucking WORLD would be on it.

I'll stop here.

And to family, be happy I'm blogging.
I could either plot to kill you or kill myself, with resentment towards you being the fuel.
Real spit.
Wanna know more?
Talk to me about what you DON'T talk about.

As fucked up as we/they are, at least The Hamilton Family would TALK about their/our demons.
As vocal as you Moorers are, I'm a little disappointed I have to wear a mask of happiness and go unseen by the people I'm the most starstruck by.
Then again, "What am I talking about?"
"Have I taken my medication?"

Yes I have.
Much to my detriment.

Or yours.

Or the mic's.



















~follow the buzzards~

Monday, 16 January 2017

Saving My Heart

E. Lynn Harris.
An amazing writer.
A rape survivor.
He wrote a book called "What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted".
I just remembered (sorta) that my mom made me read this book when I was younger.

I guess it was to toughen me up.

It somewhat softened me.
While, at the same time, softened the blow.

I was very immature about homosexuality back then.
I still don't really like it.
However, I'm more tolerant than ever.

Just be real.

I think I moreso hate men on the down low.

Now...
What inspired this blog entry?

Understand that one never fully bounces back from rape.
It's almost impossible.
Especially in this country.
Rape is like the second thing on every man's mind.

If they even have the capability of thinking.

But yeah.
I'm saving my bromantual love for J Dilla.
If he's still alive, ass.
If not, I'll just be straight until I get to Heaven.
Then, we'll commit the unpardonable sin and go to Hell, where we can musically overthrow Satan.

And then God would have NO CHOICE but to let us back in.

Thank you, E. Lynn Harris, for allowing me to explore my literary feminine side.
And, as always, I love you J Dilla.












~follow the buzzards~

The Socratic Doomer [tracklisting]

^
^
^
^
^
Unsane
Kosher
Miss Elizabeth
The Socratic Doomer
January
The Lynching of Taylor Swift
Today As Tomorrow
Too Many Ones























So...



























~follow the buzzards~

The Socratic Doomer [release date]

^
^
^
Yes, that is the cover.






The Socratic Doomer will arrive on July 17th, 2017.
Which is a Monday.

"Life is not a holiday..."
-Charles Hamilton, "Christmas In August"

















There will be ONLY ONE RELEASE THIS YEAR.
I SWEAR.
Now, you can get bored with this Nintendo-ass "Hamilton, Charles", and wait for a subpar, unwritten, FREE release to pick on.

Just one, however.

Who knows what the future may hold, should Silver (the Hedgehog) not exist?


















~follow the buzzards~

"It's whatever, whenever, how ever, nigga. 1."



I used to think you were a cool version of me.
You knew secrets about me that the others would misinterpret.
Jay, if I have to fight you to gain independence, so be it.
But my heart isn't in it.
I don't want to fight you.
I'm exhausted, heartbroken, and... you're taller.

And Bey will probably laugh at me putting my fists up.

So, you won.

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
-Charles Hamilton, "Reminder"

You dance over my head.
You reign under my throne.
You are Hov.
Is that not enough?

What if we truly are the same person?
Have we been confused?
Have we been turned against each other?

What is this beef all about?
I did nothing to you.
I doubt you did something to me.
But everyone believes you did.

I can reap.








FearFeelKill the Reaper.

I am the reaper of this Earth.

And I'm getting stronger.






And weaker.















Because of you.
















VinylPop Forever.






























~follow the buzzards~

Freddy Kreuger official lyrics (this joint is pretty slept on; by me)



(verse 1)
 I got the whole world zonin' in. For a moment, they already know I'm about to go in. This flow is so sick! The disco flow. Having these disco kids wishing they can grab a hoe/ask the hoe if they can smash it. So, I'ma be the prom leader. DO NOT GET ON A DIVA IF YOU NOT GON BE HONEST NEITHER. The other side of you is trying to "do it". I can move it. The whole movement of you trying to screw her. She's gonna say "That guy's the future." I'm a loser. I said it myself. I'm incredible. And I got incredible wealth (only when I lay with ladies who's incredible in stealth; meaning when they like to stay to themself with me)!


(hook)
Tell me what you don't like.
Tell me what you won't like.
(Now watch it be me)
Tell me what you don't like.
Tell me what you won't like.
(Now watch it be me)
You won't like me.
(I can make you hate me 'cause you ain't me)
So STOP THAT LOVIN' ON ME!
(I can make you hate me 'cause you ain't me)

(verse 2)
Y'all said for me to switch the style up. I did that so you can get your smile up. This is wild but, I can tone it down. Like, "I kinda drove around this town, trying to see if niggas is tryna get down with the chicks in my town car." They all like "Wow, Charles. You gon' give us away?" I'm like "Listen to me. I'm tryna listen to Jay, while I'm getting a fee. Charging niggas 'cause they can be with thee." I mean, "So they can be with you." But I ain't mess up. I create, the evil way. (laughs to self) "And y'all gotta believe the view. All the things we can do." I mean, "I can do. But there's so many different me's, every time I spit, I make HIStory." Let's go!



(hook)

Tell me what you don't like.
Tell me what you won't like.
(Now watch it be me)
Tell me what you don't like.
Tell me what you won't like.
(Now watch it be me)
You won't like me.
(I can make you hate me 'cause you ain't me)
So STOP THAT LOVIN' ON ME!
(I can make you hate me 'cause you ain't me)

(verse 3)
All eyes on me, but I'm not Pac. This is GothHop. "I feel like I just got hot." And I ain't gotta blog no more. I ain't gotta talk to y'all. I just go to Baltimore. Smash the chick I got in Maryland. Think about marrying. Then she wanna carry HIM over the altar. She mad brolic. And I'm mad Gothic. And she had my dick. But, only when my eyes were closed. And I was sleeping. And she dove off the deep end. Woke up all bloody. Told me she love(d) me. "That's what you get for trying to fuck me when my eyes are not open. I'm hoping we can get it in again, so hoe, go in." She not focused. I understand it. I am the "making love" bandit. Damnit.

(hook)
Tell me what you don't like.
Tell me what you won't like.
(Now watch it be me)
Tell me what you don't like.
Tell me what you won't like.
(Now watch it be me)
You won't like me.
(I can make you hate me 'cause you ain't me)
So STOP THAT LOVIN' ON ME!
(I can make you hate me 'cause you ain't me)


















~follow the buzzards~

Models Gone Wild

Sometimes I wish I was gay.
Just to never have to deal with you bitches again.
It feels like the more of a gentleman I am, the more I get shitted on.
Lisa should be enough.
But I'm hungry like the wolf.

So, I'm not the best boyfriend.

But yeah.
I'm tired of women.
So duplicitous.
Then again, men are disgusting.
I am one, so I know.
For real.
I can't kiss another man (again).
Nor can I bone a man (again).

I'm tired of homosexuality.
I hope Trump kills them all.
At the same time, Black people are at risk of getting killed off.
And I'm Black, no matter how much SOAD pumps through my veins.

Special shouts to Korn.

Am I really as "bad" as Egypt/SEGA said I was?
If so, why the mocking?

None of these guys are attractive.
They just have money.

Money.
Something I can't seem to get my hands around.

When I had it, it was taxed.
In fact, I trusted the money in the hands of ...well, just HchO.
Right now, a convo with HchO would be beneficial.

Or would it?

Yes.
I need attention.
I want the attention Drake has.
Happy, StarChasers?
I'm doing this for attention.

"The male Amy Rose; it amounts to this..."
-Charles Hamilton, "Bart-ing From Soddom"

I don't want to model again.
I don't want to act.
I barely want to put out music again.
I just want to create.
As much as that sounds like something Kanye would say, I have to admit it's the realest shit.

There's nothing realer than looking at something you created.
It just sucks to look at a multiple of yourself.
When you self-multiply.
I can show you how, but... why?

So more of you can chase me around and say you're better?

The Socratic Doomer.
Whenever I get off my highLow horse.
















~follow them~

Sunday, 15 January 2017

The (bitter)sweet taste of quitting..

As I'm sure you're all familiar with, I feel like giving up again.
Then again, Im working on a new album.
So maybe it's the beast clawing at my subconscious.
And conscious.
Shit makes me feel like I am defeating myself, in front of everyone else.

Ah, to be a Socratic doomer.

Shouts to all my doomers out there.
You don't have to catch me out there.
I got too much love for y'all.
And I got aliens I care about.

So don't doom them either.

But I still want to learn y'all ways.

If y'all even exist.

I made some great beats this weekend.
And apparently I made a dope single.
I might take it down though.
Don't wanna give Drake TOO much attention.

He already kinda rules the world.

Can't close the blog entry on that note, so I'll do it like this.






J DILLA FOREVER.



























~follow the buzzards~

Saturday, 14 January 2017

Sometimes, God speaks through me.

Psalm 66 
King James Version (KJV)

66 Make a joyful noise unto God, all ye lands:

2 Sing forth the honour of his name: make his praise glorious.

3 Say unto God, How terrible art thou in thy works! through the greatness of thy power shall thine enemies submit themselves unto thee.

4 All the earth shall worship thee, and shall sing unto thee; they shall sing to thy name. Selah.

5 Come and see the works of God: he is terrible in his doing toward the children of men.

6 He turned the sea into dry land: they went through the flood on foot: there did we rejoice in him.

7 He ruleth by his power for ever; his eyes behold the nations: let not the rebellious exalt themselves. Selah.

8 O bless our God, ye people, and make the voice of his praise to be heard:

9 Which holdeth our soul in life, and suffereth not our feet to be moved.

10 For thou, O God, hast proved us: thou hast tried us, as silver is tried.

11 Thou broughtest us into the net; thou laidst affliction upon our loins.

12 Thou hast caused men to ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water: but thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place.

13 I will go into thy house with burnt offerings: I will pay thee my vows,

14 Which my lips have uttered, and my mouth hath spoken, when I was in trouble.

15 I will offer unto thee burnt sacrifices of fatlings, with the incense of rams; I will offer bullocks with goats. Selah.

16 Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul.

17 I cried unto him with my mouth, and he was extolled with my tongue.

18 If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me:

19 But verily God hath heard me; he hath attended to the voice of my prayer.

20 Blessed be God, which hath not turned away my prayer, nor his mercy from me.
















Catholic Illuminati: Infinite Psalms
Still online.




























~follow the buzzards~