The Grinch

^
^
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My Dad to the left, my Uncle Mark to the right.

Anyway, I do kinda wish I wasn't so mean to my StarChasers in 2012. I had a chip on my shoulder about the expectations for my post-incarceration music. They didn't make it any better. I guess because I provided an escape from the harsh reality of life that they didn't like me taking on my problems HEAD ON and FACE-TO-FACE. 

I would rather work side-by-side with you guys. I always ask how I can improve my music, knowing that I know best. I can always afford to learn. But from whom? The best say I got it! From Jimmy to Pharrell. And I'm sure if you ask Hov, he'd tell you I got it. Em said it! 

Whatever. 
I know my worth.

I think StarChasers were faced with a darker reality once I stopped writing. You can't always rely on my eyes to give you encouragement. I gave y'all bars that came from THE SOUL. THE HEART. THROUGH THE MIND. You gotta respect it.

I even gave you ammunition to NOT like it. And you picked it up, loaded the clip in the AK, and blasted yourself with it. I think it's apparent that I could've made a "Vampire Sunlight" in 2012. All I needed was a proper studio. Even still, the #caverecordings were made to inspire ANYONE to use ANYTHING and WHATEVER to make music and say what YOU have to say. As much hell as I caught for it, now everyone is recording on their phone (BandLab is cool).

I take pride in being ahead of my time. I know what it takes to be me. To be me is to be a star. Mom, Grandma, Uncle Gee, Dad and Uncle Mark KNOW I have what it takes to be a star. Yet I'm choosing to be a #RecordingArtist (eg. The-Dream) over being a performing artist (eg. Tinashe). I can't contain the feeling of being in the studio... specifically my home studio... I want this forever, mane.

This record was made late one night. I was in a deep slump, talking back to the voices. The voices ended up being this beat's melody. I am getting older. I was never a player, but the value of women has gone up. At least in my world/head. I hope women fan agree on ONE THING... at least one thing. Catfights are a turn-on, but I can never walk away with the winner. Just how I am.

Prayers for all.

I'm over here fuckin shit up on FL Studio.
Scream back!

~Jr.?~

 

Stagefright

These 3.

Grandma, Uncle Gee, Mom.

The 3 reasons why I shall fear no stage.

See, around 2014 when iLoveMakonnen got knocked out onstage, I got really timid about performing. I had been talking GREASY on record about some cats who were connected. THE LAST thing I wanted was to be jamming onstage and get sucker punched by who Im rapping about.

2012 was the same thing. I was SPECIFICALLY gettin' at *drKiwi* and *drKiwi*, and wanted ALL the smoke. In fact, I invited them to "do something" about what I was doing/saying onstage. This is/was before I saw what was at stake and who the war was really between.

NONE OF WHICH have ANYTHING to do with performing. Nothing should scare me into NOT rockin the mic. I am, indeed, a solid performer. And now that I'm not on the PARALYZING meds I was on before, I can guarantee putting on a good show.

There are some opportunities to catch me live in the near future. It's all about WHAT to perform. Catch you up to speed or go down memory lane? You'll enjoy yourself either way. 

Special thanks to MY Big 3.

Grandma, Uncle Gee, Mom.

Always with me, in their own special way.

~Jr.~

 

#KingKiwi's accident (In Black & White)

Still in a nasty depression bout. Saw the results of the game. The ignorance of Trump, coupled with the White Magic of Wemby cause the Knicks to lose. I bet, no matter the outcome of this series, those nuns will/would have put a hex on me. That's dead how they do. Catholics, don't play innocent now. Y'all use magic to fight evil the way I use magic to defend good (at least what *I* find good; y'all should know, AND you'd be surprised... 1ne). Even still, I didn't allow my dark cloud to be a catalys for NYfailure tonight.

And felt horrible because of it,

I mean, I got music made (been WILDING on Fruity Loops lately), and I'm currently blogging. Always a good exercise of the frontal lobe. But I'm a New Yorker at heart. I can get rude, my nigga. And my loyalty can be spoken about throughout the whole city. I feel bad not adding my #spiritfingers to the muscle-bound underdog home team. 

Thing is, midway through the game, I realized why I don't watch sports as much anymore.

Brunson is a great player. But my everyday can't be determined by him. TRUST: as much as I love Dilla, it's been a HARD road not being impacted by him, his music, or his passing... or the thought of him being the Neo-Soul 2Pac (iykyk). I adjusted my game to fond, passing thoughts of him being traced in my music, from DIRECT references to him and his music. Same with Em (BIG TIME), same with Dr. Dre, same with Hi-Tek, etc.

It's a little different with #KingKiwi.

lol he is the GROUCHIEST Doberman you ever met. But he's loving, caring, funny, and WISE. 
Still in a funk, I walked over to his apartment, hoping to score a quick smoke session and maybe get a laugh or two in. He opens the door, and the tv's on! Thinking it was Star Trek, I opened my mouth to say "Ready, King Kiwi?!". He pointed to the tv, and unlike our Star Trek voyages of yestermonth (pick up Alfred Banks' "Yestermonth" on whatever DSP you use!), it was Black & White.

I sat down.

Upon further observation, #KingKiwi was watching The Three Stooges. Mom was the one who could tell it, I USED TO LOVE THE THREE STOOGES!!! Lo and behold, I cracked up SEVERAL TIMES within minutes. I might not be back to 100%, but thanks to #KingKiwi's satellite television, I remember what it feels like to hurt myself laughing.

A lot was said in this entry. All I know is, I want no smoke with New York, especially over something as (censored) as a championship game. And let's be clear: I get it. It's been a few lifetimes since the Knicks won a championship. But I felt myself go on a downward spiral watching the game, and I needed to redirect my energy into something I know loves me as much as I love it.

She is the only love, for cryin' out loud...

~Jr.~
#

"Less than 3 mins. in the 3rd."

I'm watching The Finals.

I'm rooting for The Knicks.

For whatever reason, I have a personal vendetta against Wemby. 

Probably because he would tower over me.

I don't like when tall niggas do that.

They have no choice, I guess.

Regardless, I have lost COMPLETE interest in the game.

I wish NY THE BEST OF LUCK.

I believe in the 2026 Knicks more than I do 2021 Charles Hamilton.

It's kinda always been this way.

But you would have to be a damn vegetable to NOT see my impact in this series.

Such is not why I'm dooinit.

I'm damn near summoned into it.

And if my magical self should falter, New York would ONLY have me to blame.

Trump is just watching the game.

I'm sorry if I failed you, Big Apple.

I hope the Knicks win.

But duty calls (music), and I been on FIRE all day/weekend.

You can do it without me.

You did it so far this season...

Again.

I want the Knicks to win.

I just won't be doing anything serendipitous to make it happen.

Magical = Serendipitous, for those lost in the sauce.

The depression continues...

what is it?

~Jr.~

Butterfinger 0fficial lyrics

(Verse 1)

Standing on solid ground when no one is around is not a problem when you start from the ground. Though I found I have company, I haven't employed. I haven't made them deploy the ink on a pen to say what they may enjoy... if they don't have to think again. Reason being is in ink. Before the ink has been received. No reason for you to be leaving! Dollar signs are what I wanna receive. And what I need, I *want*to get. And what I want to get has been intercepted by... what I need. So what you're *gonna* get, I ain't hiding. You hiding from it.

(Hook)

Have you ever asked yourself, "What is he doing?"

I'm practicing what I've learned.

I learned not to let you go!

I learned not to let you go.

Therefore, we'll never burn.

(Verse 2)

Before my mother died, I told her I have a crush on her. A sucker indeed, but Krishna crawling at my ribs led me to believe that as a listener, she'd get all that I give. And with the sickness (not a disease) that I live with bothering me inside, I honestly needed to provide the profession of affection that she had not received for years when crying tears of me being what I deny my peers to be: a real DeBell. A rebellious Devil. Don't ever settle.

(Hook)

Have you ever asked yourself, "What is he doing?"

I'm practicing what I've learned.

I learned not to let you go!

I learned not to let you go.

Therefore, we'll never burn.

(Verse 3)

Every man eventually finds their mother is who they're meant to be with... in the eyes of another. And I have hidden secrets from many. Yet you're hiding secrets from me and the pleasing (indeed) of which finding the secret out would be, is why you doubt me. Now, I feel lousy. You wanna be down with me, and I'm down on me while I'm (goin' down on you...). The Tongue of Destiny, leaving my throat. I'm speaking it slow. Maybe she... wants to kiss me again. maybe those kisses weren't the wind. The perect sin. A Perfect 10, in subtraction.

(Hook)

Have you ever asked yourself, "What is he doing?"

I'm practicing what I've learned.

I learned not to let you go!

I learned not to let you go.

Therefore, we'll never burn.

You know who you are.

Thanks for the memories.

~Jr.~

Workinonit! (potential double-title)

In the last week or so, I've been going over the songs I have the masters to and mixing them over. Yes, the first mix is usually the final mix. But I FOUND MY MASTERS to at least 5-6 years of music! I don't have a lot of Pro Tools sessions/masters, and even then, I don't have Pro Tools. Regardless, I will be dropping mixovers of particular CH joints.

I might have to redo the ENTIRE "Dream On". The mic I was using was a podcast mic (specifically). But "Dream..." has a cult lil bas by itself. As good as I've gotten with mixing, I think y'all would appreciate a fresher mix.

Currently bumping "Death Becomes Her", off #ModernArt!. I can confirm that it was a diss track to my mom... for dying. As much as we beefed while she was alive, almost instantly every lesson she taught made sense. I feel bad for blacking on her when I did. I thought she couldnt see my hard work! I thought she wanted me to be white washed! I'm sorry mom! Shit, I can feel her whipping me now (for carving).

Now look. I've said too much.

Back later.

~~Jr.~~

Speaking of my 3 loves...

Recorded and released, MOMENTS ago.

Let's go, New York!

I miss you, Cleveland!

I love you, LA!!! (FUCK! is it too soon?)

not this shit again.

~Jr.~

Still not a player...

So there are 3 beautiful women in my life. All of whom have been here since day one. Beyond it, even. The first one I met as an infant. She was so peaceful, and all I could radiate was loud music. The best of it, might I add. Still, this isn't about my ability to project music/sound. This woman had a heart like no other. She was my quilt, long before I felt a blanket. Everything about her made everyone around her love and love better. 

Keep such in mind.

The second one was always rough around the edges. From an early age, I learned not to get on her bad side. Though that side was what turned me on about her. From an early age, might I add. I never took her snapping (in any context) as anything less than lessons. Don't betray her. Don't insult her. Don't try to outshine her. Yet she begged and begs to be represented by the best of them.

The third one was always a fantasy. Like, a direct fantasy. I met her so late in my life that I lost the gumption to tell her HOW MUCH of a fantasy she is. She doesn't accept mediocrity, but but can be charmed by the minimal. Yet there is a dark(er) side to my fantasy lady: she's in a gang. Which one, doesn't matter. With all due respect and honor to the reputable street gangs. She's in that life. And she can be taken out faster than an "I love you".

Now. Family trauma led to a grueling separation between my first and I. Such trauma made #2 more of a villain than she could've imagined. And I'm shaking the cobwebs off to face an everyday with tres. But I'm sticking it out. I'm right here, until you say to move. And I won't stop you as you walk on by. 

I just want a guaranteed plate whenever I pop up at your dwelling.

See? Still not a player!

blogging is cheering me up. I won't overdo it tho.

~~CH~~

Dead in

 Dead inside

Dead outside

I dead don’t wanna go outside.

I overwhelm by myself, inside.

I am very lonely.

Not crying for help.

I wish I never put my hands on *drKiwi*. Her affection is needed right now.

Why am I so depressed? I have my music, I have fame… I can’t feel the joy I have. I’m hurt by the slightest joke. I hate how sensitive I’ve gotten. I am ALL ABOUT LOVE. I lyrically left Jay-Z alone. I honor Eminem though innovation. I use my soul for Dilla. I’m not wrong.

StarChasers, I’d hate to let you down. But I am obsessed with death. God is working on me.

I don’t wan to cry for help. I gotta do this on my own.

^
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~~CH~~

Unfeeling

Let me get to the point, early. I just tried to carve (a pyramid) into my arm, and everything felt horrible. Tragically horrible. I reached a depression that legislatively led to carving. Not suicide, not flirting… I just wanna carve right now.

But the pain paralyzed me. The deeper I seeped the blade, the worse I hurt. 

I tried y’all. I fought with every fiber in my being to NOT pick up the blade. But it feels pointless now. Is it the meds? I used to have a high pain tolerance. I felt my inner baby hurting. That’s what made me stop. I wanna take this time to thank GENUINE StarChasers. Y’all should’ve came to mind (for me) when o grabbed the blade.

The Bipolar Sunshine has apparently stopped working. My downtrodden mood is literally taking over. Please bear with me. I mean no harm. I just bear pain I never thought… too much.

Father God (in the name of Jesus), show me how to deal with this anvil dropped on my back. You know my heart.

Meds are kicking in HEAVY. I’ll be on later

(written a day ago)

nothing is cheering me up.

%CH. PeacePeace, yall…

Dead "isn't she"(...lovely...)

You know I can brag about you, right? Not that I bodied you, though the sex was career defining. Not that you're the baddest feline to ever be in the studio (with me). But that I can introduce you to the world at large, free of cost, with no emotional taxation. 

Maybe a little, seeing as how we have children.

Shit, both o' you Beanstalks, Jack!

lol lil Illuminati humor.

Anyway, I started work on a project similar to another unreleased joint. Both of which go by the name #CharlesHamilton. These might not hit the website, however. And/or if they do, it's in a different capacity. The #cHam era is over, and you only got dosages of it. It was awesome. I feel really in tune with Harlem (!) after dooinit. Like they really call me cHam out there. And spell it like that, too! Yo... I mean Max, Jim, the Harlem Superstars, ...they still be on the block. To be on the block WITH A NAME? NO DRAMA?? Chill. That's a privilege. A lot of cats try to come to the block (be it Lenox, 7th, 8th, ...they leave Broadway and the east side alone) and think they have status just because the rest of the world knows them (in some capacity). No. You are the sweetest sweet potato pie Manna's could cook up. All it takes is a space in between you and the streets and you're WASHED.

I never was a blockhead (unless on Broadway). They knew me, it was always love, but whenever I was outside, I was on a mission. Whether get to church on time to play the organ, get to an audition, ...even when battling throughout the city (BX stand UP! Bates! Brooks!), I never stopped to peep the scenery. I had somewhere to go, and likely it involved money. You don't need to know what's in my pockets, I ain't askin you for the time, I'm not wearing their colors (even though pink is a color for OG Bloods; sorry Cam, sorry Snoop), I WANT NO SMOKE. It's safe to say I fear New York City. And with good reason. I HAVE SEEN SOME SHIT. I even tried to intervene once, and niggas almost bit my head off. I fell back PERMANENTLY over that.

Anything can happen in The Big Apple.

Including a championship!!!

Now, ordinarily I would've rooted for The Cavs. But after they won a ring with LeBron, their championship quest seemed miniscule. Y'all niggas got a post-2010 ring. Yes, niggas wanna see if you can do it WITHOUT BronBron, but that doesnt trump The Knicks GRINDING to get where they are now. If you can't respect the Finals appearance, your whole perspective is wack. Wemby IS a big bitch, tho. And he's a sniper from 3. The Knicks MUST play physical in the paint, to open trey opportunities on O and TAKE THAT BIG BITCH OUT on D (pause). 

May the best team win, but NEW YORK IS IN THE HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And y'all were in my apartment, too.

Remember?

#TBDR

She isn’t dead.

Don’t kill her.

As killer as she is, she has heavy anxiety about being… in the forefront.

Despite being God.

Anyway, I am o the creative mind to ABORT my John Nintendo 2.0 collection. I recorded at least 20 joints for it, just to see if I dig the vibe. Though the bars are up to par, the character is too far out of my spectrum of being. The production is ahead of the curve, not to sound pretentious. I’m excited about these beats one day being heard.

The only outstanding project/penname I have lined up is #TheBlackDrRobotnik. NOTHING BUT BEATS for then, and #cHam is a good starting point for #TBDR. cHam, to be expected (for) later this year.

Evil is exhausting. You gotta remember details, can’t fear karma, …you gotta be willing to hold on to some shit, only to bear the fear that the vengeance you seek won’t even be worth it. To some, it’s totally worth it. Shit, I put a couple curses on *drKiwi* in my day. And they worked! But then karma threw it in my face like “Look what you did!”. So, though I dwell in darkness, I allow the light of God to shine through me.

That said, this bitch brings out the Satan in me, IN EVERY WAY FATHOMABLE! 

Can’t help but love her anonymous ass…

~cHam#widdit~

The Beautiful Way To Die

 The beautiful death of which Ye speaks of. 

I already spoke you into #THQz existence ("...HERE!, with you..."). For a while. Like a while, a long while Beloved. I grew from where I was on day one, and ...guess what? I'm still there. I'm just beyond the theatrics. 

You're not quite understanding me right now.
I ...I dig.

but I have your attention.

For a few seconds... let my existence rock your world.

Drake levels of Michael Jackson.

Here I am, listening to you.
In THIS form.

The form that dominates the memory of #The3FingeredMan.

The man who introduced me to #TheGazaStrip (as far as what is coveted and what is desired).

How can you strike me for trying to be the man you made me aspire to be?
I give you your impact. Like just now and in general. Like JUST just now. Like THIS is happening.

You can't just be able to wreak havoc in my life the way you do. When I try to do it to you, you always resist. In fact, yeah. I think I'm gonna fall back.

Damn.

Here you go again.

Look

I have an apartment now. 
Circumstances being as they may be, we can finish this.

Unannounced.

At the click of this mouse, if I'm being (specifically) clear.

So I show diligence.
To your disgust.

And delight.

Once you see it my way.

Sonic's around here, too.

#cHamEra