The movement begins.

The label.

Toast to my long overdue success.

Let the games begin.

"Hamilton, with the lead..."

-so mote it be

Dinner and a reindeer...

This blog post is fueled by Just 15 Lemonade and a Swiss Turkey Burger.

I ended up making about 3-4 more albums since Secrets and Privacy.
I also dropped a whole host of music on Christmas (soundcloud.com/chamilton718).
Wisely, I'm staying away from all talk about #TheSonicMovie, but every so often I chime in with ancient wisdom about OMH and SEGA itself.

I believe I'm doing the right thing.

All I have to do is make money.

The rumor is true: I am signed up to run for Congress (under The Green Party) in 2022.
I would've ran in this election, but I have to get better acquainted with NY2 (the district) to better lobby for the county's needs.
Also, I am talking to another record label.
Beggars can't be choosers, but I am definitely worth the weight I don't throw around.
Which, ironically, is the entire music business.

I've noticed that everyone stopped listening to music for enjoyment, and are looking for hits.
You, individual, are not an A&R unless you get that job.
Basically, you're looking for songs you would feel comfortable listening to repeatedly on the radio, as opposed to finding music you can connect/relate to.

My music comes from experience.
My experience comes from professionalism.
Professional is how I carry myself, in every situation.
Even when I'm flipping out about how screwed up things are.
Even Kobe and MJ lost their cool to the refs.

Because they play with passion.

Of all the projects I've... shit... RECORDED, I'm most excited for you guys to hear Just Charles.

I was myself on this album.

Just me, pianos and an acoustic guitar.

Much more, much less.

I actually was myself on this album.

Whether you understand me on it or not.

FDAliens might appreciate it.

Oh.

I'm banned from my home church for talking about SEGA during Sunday Morning Devotion.

Devotion is when anyone can stand up and give their testimony (story on what God has done for them) and sing songs of praise.

I want to go into detail, but it's not worth it to get that angry again.

See?

Growth!

-so mote it be

It all falls back on me...

The best things in life are free.
Except for the individual who provides such.

I have recorded my final bodies of work.
I am not about to commit suicide.
I have a lot of unreleased music.
It costs money to put music on streaming, and is very time consuming.
If you have an Apple product, you indeed can see me and have access to my library.
If you are in Harlem and want exclusive music, find Paris "P Dunner Johnson" and ask him for access.
He has permission to charge you.

Thank you for listening to my testimony.

Secrets and Privacy

Retirement Plan

Then the fun begins.

The Remarkable. 

-so mote it be

Closing Time official lyrics

Check me out. I'm the only raw MC of the 21st century. If you ill, you not human. If I find you ill (rather)...

Charles Hamilton.

I keep it raw like I like infections. Teabow. I like interceptions. And this mic is intercepting the lifeless direction of being the nicest and still being rude. Still being crude, but that's a kind of oil. Tell that other C not to soil her diaper. That'll douse my fire. No Dhalsim. Gettin' screamed at by Mariah? Nigga, I'm higher! ...than any level you could possibly reach. You gotta be next to me. With the cockiest speech. And that last sentence is describing me. And THAT last sentence is followed by honestly. God damnit! Honest Tea?! Charles Eddie-(and the honest in me is saying Eddie means honest; so, I) honestly go HAM on every God damned beat! "GET OUT!" And that's what "GET OUT!" the mic said "GET OUT OF HERE!" But I'm not a queer! So "GET OUT!" I said to it. "GET OUT!" And it exited! "GET OUT OF HERE!" You don't see no fuckin' doubt in here! "GET OUT!" Why? "GET OUT!" You tryna say "GET OUT OF HERE!" to a nigga who's fly? Well, "GET OUT!" Back out... "GET OUT!" Back out... "GET OUT OF HERE" Back outside here' s the guy with the vibe!

Y'all niggas asking for a cover. Fuck outta here! I ain't a Chippendale lover! Shit! I look like Drizzy?! No! I'm busy! And when it comes to snow, I'm far from gettin' grizzly! I mean, FAR from drizzling. Y'all niggas on my "90's" slang; pizzling. But that's 90s + 4 + what-the-fuck-year-were-you-in-when-I-said-what-the-fuck-for,-must-I-quote-it?! MLA! Look at the number, then tell me (at the bottom of the page) I have the deadliest way of expressing my thoughts in a day. I wake up and I'm all the rage. David Cassidy. Come and battle me. I'm laughin be(y)cause, half of these rappers don't even rap. They have a B/Bey in 'em. And they fuckin nest? Surrounded with venom. From what I be spittin' to 'em. And it ends up leaking (-Leik-ing). And going in 'em. Like, "Lionell was mixing my shit and said, 'Yo, end 'em'!'" Now. I must befriend him. Then, go to the beginning and sin with him. Genesis. Holy shit! It's the kid with his Tennises. And the S is for shoes. Who's messing with who. "GET OUT!" Yo. "GET OUT!" 'Cause you faster! "GET OUT OF HERE!" You fuckin' bastard! You loud ass queer! But that means Sonic. Did I say... "GET OUT OF HERE!"? You wouldn't believe me anyway. So hit the highway. You fuckin' Toni's. Keep actin'. Rappin. Jamie Foxx is the captain of this fuckin' hotel. Talk shit about me? I'ma go Sowell. 

Later. 

Out the par with it.

Charles Hamilton.

Catholic Illuminati.

Damn it, I'm DARK with it.

-so mote it be