Charles Hamilton
A Guest on Oprah
I am the essence of excellence. Me and perfection are the best of friends. I see Death and in the West Wind, I inhale it. Somebody gotta let me know if I am Palin. My titties are showing on Worldstar, and I stay flowing on the mic. Girls are going insane whenever they see me, right? Asking the fellas who were invisibly by side. I ain’t gotta watch, I let my Latin chick have it. Blacking it, splash it, that is imagination come true. Never thought words of this nation. And as Sun Tsu, I’d have someone who is as bad and hispanic, jamming to Hamilton’s shit. And, being candid, we made love, no rubber, in Harlem. So we taking it worldwide with no problem

I have one problem with these girls
They say my love is too real
I have no problem with the word
They say my love is too real
But what if my problem becomes the world
They say my love is too real
Can you still be Daddy’s little girl?
They say my love is too real

Like orange juice for Grey Goose, heroin, followed by a blunt, is a great excuse to move as great as I move. No one is able to shake a table the way I do. All turntablists aren’t able to get as sick as I. Because while I’m spitting rhymes, I’m thinking about about making a record. And obviously it’s in the song, but a record is a truth you set that needs to be respected. I’m overheating and I’m overeating. I might be too fat but it’s Hov Season. And those who’ve got dollars, billions, and the money is respect and power are chilling. I now am one loud man, the lead singer of Powerman 5000. And if thou can get down with me understand this is alchemy. Charles Hamilton on the beat

I have one problem with these girls
They say my love is too real
I have no problem with the word
They say my love is too real
But what if my problem becomes the world
They say my love is too real
Can you still be Daddy’s little girl?
They say my love is too real

Looks like only one verse is finished. Therefore this verse gotta be the worst. It hurts for n***as. And I don’t feel but so perfect, n***a. But I’m spacing, zoning, taking each moment of not having a great diploma and using the diploma that I could’ve had as the microphone. See why I’m good at rap? Life’s alone and I’m suicidal, so who’s next to have my throne? I don’t know, cyclone. Like the power to make you touch the sky. I’m Astroboy and I love her thighs, so thick. And I love my guys, even though I only roll with one. ONE. The shit gets kind of dumb, son. When these n***as act like they’re going to dump something into your chest. That’s what I don’t R-E-S… Motherfuckers need to give it a rest