A Master Piece

Sit back and watch a master bait.

#stillKing

See what I mean?

Today, the polo is different and I'm wearing khakis... from a few days ago.
I gotta wash the 666 tee.

#beseated

Holiday dump

 Clearly, I've been cooking.

When I'm on GRIND mode, I rarely shower and change my clothes. And I'm ALWAYS in grind mode.

Pardon me.

#therebirth

Masters (and commonfolk)

"Mastery: The Love Album" got A LOT of traction since it was reviewed by the StarCHaser Central Podcast. I would like to thank (first of all) MF DOOM for providing the instrumentals. Second, I wanna thank Stik and Mike for reviewing the tape. I feel like all my projects are top tier, and it takes inside knowledge to understand. I OFTEN provide this knowledge, to the dismay of The Illuminati, the further confusion of the layperson and the discomfort of me, not knowing where this knowledge will take you.

Since the review of #TheLoveAlbum, I recorded FOUR MORE Mastery's. All relevant, all timeless. Just under pen names I haven't properly introduced. I can't wait until y'all get a dose of this dope.

I'm so excited for the end of year festivities. I'm gonna come out of my shell, from in my cocoon. You're gonna love it. 

I pray for everyone. My fellow Goths and my Hollywood counterparts. But I am of the darkness. The very darkness you shun. I am a combination of Slipknot and Korn in the shell of a awkward sized 40-year old Negro male. Gothizm oozes from my pores, staining my pink polos. My grooming habits don't bespeak my handsomeness. And I am seriously fighting the urge to carve again. 

I miss you, God.

Come back to me.

Damn. I probably shouldn't have wrote that I want to carve. I want to do it more. 

If I do decide to do it, I won't slit the main vein. I just gotta feel again.

Whatever. I'm okay.

Being a Master comes with pain.

Expect a drop soon.

#beseated

Some kind of wonderful.

While roaming the streets of Melrose after rocking Guitar Center, DJ Atari and I bumped into none other than Hi-Tek!

He remembered me, gave me flowers, we exchanged info, and acknowledged that this, the second time we met, was a divine sign.

Be on the lookout, y'all!

Toast to a real Ohio Player.

#beseated

CH x DJ Atari photo collab

"Shorty wanna vibe w/ a villain..!"

#beseated

 

About my music... again.

The only real issue is that there isn't a consistent VOLUME base. Like, some are naturally at 0.0, some are boosted at 3dBs high, FROM 0.0. Naturally or supernaturally. And there is A LOT of supernatural work at play. From restoring shadows to defensive attacks against those who wish to overthrow me.

If you know my kingdom, you know I cherish it and would do anything to protect it.
Some folks felt comfort just now. Others, worry,

My music can be described as bipolar (note: I been listening to ALL 30k records since mid November, JUST to make these notes; I only have a few NEWER albums left). Sometimes I want to be felt more than heard, other times, the other way around. Maybe this message gets lost in the sauce of hi-fidelity, generically general music it competes against. But do remember, I'm not here to compete with anyone. I want and wanted to reach a generation engaged in a war that has nothing to do with them, but will DIRECTLY affect them.

Unless I sign with Em, Dre, Snoop or 50, I'm not interested in a deal. My man DJ Enjetic had me ready to go with another label, but I know FOR A FACT they don't have my best interest at heart (as far as creative control). My natural grit must go in order for us to work. Weight-loss, dental care, foot care... things that I cannot afford for myself at the moment.

I got a hook up on some wifi. That's how I'm able to carry out these posts.

Regardless, money is a bittersweet issue for me. I'm happy, but I'm poorer. I do get lonesome, but I always make it out of those dark nights. Loneliness is my only problem with my life these days. And it doesn't always mean something bad. Perhaps I need to feel the longing of my people. But the NEED for money is being replaced by a WANT for money. I want to live better, I NEED to stay humble about my environment. 

I am not living bad.

It's just hard talking to LA women, knowing you aren't dressed the sharpest and that, yeah, I have no choice but to compete. 

Maybe it's up to what type of woman I like.
I don't know my type anymore. Baddie is certainly it, but we aren't on the best terms right now.

I think she likes having a rocky relationship with me.
Whatever.

Moving on,
I enjoy my music. Lyrically dense (even if someone doesn't know what I'm talking about), musically rich (including Hamilton, Charles the album), and creative as your favorite artist pre-me.

Don't feel bad about my lack of fame. You got your wish! The artist you want to keep a secret is yelling to get out of the box!

Where to from here?

#beseated

A pen test.

 (written to Rakim's "Guess Who's Back" instrumental... d'uh)

I got nothin to prove. At this point, I'm fuckin w/ u. I wake up and groove, but what's it to you? Just to soothe scars I never caused? Or to move far climates with bars? Where they gon go from here? Here's a chauvinist souvenir. I am who appears as the holiest, still I ruin peers. To be clear. Studios can hear me coming. I'm really frontin'. Clearly someone and something. Underneath Lucifer. The dope connect to God. No one let me stop. I inspire and retire many. Call me sire or dire. Still straight. I steal bases. Kenny Lofton. Loaded or not. Accept it. The reflection that lasts forever. Trap Rap in a vegetable patch. What will you get back? No breath and a setback. Dead that. Nothing fresh. Fuckin upset. We gotta learn better to do better. Who's up next? I taught and learned. Burned all sorts of herb. Spoken word tortures me. She gotta love it. I got enough of it. I spit what I have left. Kicking the ass of any nigga who has death as a wish for The Kid. Passed blessed. My mission is bliss. Have sex and remember The Kid. Whatever kid I pass next finishes it. That's a blessing, destiny, and the past being finished with the gatekeeping hate these bastards pester The Kid with. Have a sip of something crisp and pack feathers into a Zig. If not, you think you rap better than him. And that's where the fellowship ends. Never again. Push the keys like, "Look at me!". Still tapped in. Ill rappin'. Scratchin'? I still practice. Still I'm ill at it. Feel that shit. Flip a track and kill that shit. I can feel the axis. Still, I stand firm. Pills in my hand, bumping DJ Green Lantern. No answer from dancers. My Best Man is the answer to Cancer. Not Samantha or Jivanta. Just a bond that you can't touch. Stand the fuck up. I got advanced. I got problems. I'm a man bothered by the stance of a lot of Man. It doesn't take a dollar. It takes a voice to make a holla. $9 won't get you a dime. So sniff you a line and get you in line. Shit. I'm telling niggas how to stick to a vibe. Be who you are high when you're drunk. And do it once a month. That'll be your own private front. When you achieve something, do it twice in a month. That teaches humility, since you're likely to front with life on a blunt. Euphoria was never mine. So nevermind. I'll save it for a better time.

Hit me w/ your feedback.

[#IsHeStillKing?]

Moments ago.

Yeah.
I like the way I look.

You know what you could suck to change it.

Moving on...

I want everyone to check out Everyday the 31st. A horror story. For everyday living.

Anyone have plans for New Years?

I might have something lined up for y'all.

"Because I won't lose, they try to help him cheat..." 

 I'll be cooking up soon. Just recharging from my last 100+ beats... within a week.

Listening to #EverydayThe31st right now. 

Wrote this entry last night and PASSED OUT.

New episode of StarCHaser Central Podcast.

Kill the Reaper!!!

#beseated