Werebear EP

by Oso Negro & Weighn Beats

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Sikh Servo
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Sikh Servo Oso should be my therapeutic psycho analytical minstrel on point with diagnosis and mindful with the doses. When I heard this my spinal columbined two psycho's paths to climb like vines intertwined prime time to shoot between the eyes of the western mind and descend as one giant problem to all mankind. Favorite track: Magic.
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    •Bonus Track
    "Maniac FRESH KILS RMX" featuring MPC masher extraordinaire from Toronto.
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1.
we night creatures don't let the light reach us when the shadows were my friends, i played all night [all night] floating down the walks, givin hanging branches high fives silent as y'all slept, while i crept, compiling steps flying, leapt, compliant lift, sigh a breath, admire the breadth of sky --and depth of visible cosmos, a dirigible thin individual hittin a pivotal twist- no rivals beyond survival, won't fit into rigid or given descriptions/ not tribal, ursanthrope cursed by folks's libel but under stars, free to move about incognito nothing to prove, just soothed by the scene, couldn't believe, so regal. king of the ring of constellations -constant amazement conscious of my place, enSCONced and bathed, responsive rays --i'm* glowing. lit'rally luminescent, when the moon's a crescent, fireworks boomin festive. half human half progressive, untombed and truly stretching, unraveling d.n.a./ straddling tension verse intention, the soul's sole invention we night creatures we night creatures don't let the light reach us highlight's features on night creatures --so so exuberant consumed, i'd flit under lunar lit, swiftest movements/ gripped in tune, no ruinous runes transmittin a smidgen of data past me. voluminous, happy, cartouches and draftings deduced through absolute blackness -osiris fire spirals all around, inspiring chiral counts, hoofing past the looking glass, buying pints by the ounce, from glide to pounce then dry em out --just the right amount dedication to desiccation, preservation of sustenance, spread across the reservation -menacin pemmican letterman, veteran peddling reputation, wetted the pavement, after stepping from vapors the dew thick as honey, flowin over grasses, running, gasp for sun, last chance for pundits punting off the public funding no trust in nothing, abort strut/ for short cut to my sacred earth, hope i make it first, o! the daylight burns we night creatures we night creatures don't let the light reach us we night creatures don't let the light reach us
2.
3.
02:56
clean house. rake up. load out. pullin up the roots again the perpetual schedule of vegetables. metronomes, set in stone/ that bless your home. -volunteers, transplants unexpected branches, summin up the pantry tons of fruit and veg -under tutelage stalk grew to hedge -seed bloomed to meds consumed and fed, shined the light like umi said exuded fluids bled. fibonacci rudiments and i can see the pattern -spread only harvest from the fattest -heads i carry a library/ survive vicariously. -ghost spotting, writhing nearly asleep. clearly i see, invariably, a myriad things, from pyramid period reins the new dawn before us eye of horus from a porous night's sky pullin up the roots again cuttin back the shoots and stems culling all my groups of friends pullin up the roots dilapidated as the past has faded. hardened soil, loosed through garden toil, in my ardent world. carted whole landscapes, this man made expanse draped, from mandates of handshakes, smoothed out with sandpapes clam bakes and planned dates, kind gestures a man makes, manifester. handled hectors and defectors. damn, straight. for every guest that's on my land? --steak/ and for breakfast's a grand plate, of Princely pancakes this grizzled man's mug. -mis'rable ransom chiseled by a big ol fire, sizzling in tandom with my particular, ritual of anthems burning my face to ash, with this damned -tongue the hands of time. -frantic pantomime read the universe. -oh, i'm banished, fine? stoic. focus:~spring~equinox time to find another territory. re-seed my plot. pullin up the roots again pullin up the roots again pullin up the roots again pullin up the roots again cuttin back the shoots and stems culling all my groups of friends pullin up the roots pullin up the roots pullin up the roots pullin up the roooooots
4.
n/a
5.
03:57
where did the magic go? where did the magic go? i miss the magic, yo. there was a time, when there was maaa-gic somehow, i cruised right passed it when i used to move to grooves in the plastic vinyl- stuck to loops, glued with the mastic find now, struck, couldn't illum with a matchstick right now, sucks, cuz just consumed with the drastic geopolitical ratchet, it's that's sick, a fastidious immigrant's bastion of fat grins never lastin. --i need a plan to implement no wrinkles, basic tinkering, paced for simpletons evaded pinkertons, racing for a pinker tongue pocket full of rocks, water walking, stage for sink or swum--instead it's drifting, no waitin /for a swell uplifting, a pail of sugar in a pool of Lipton, tryna brighten the palate, business end of a mallet to melon. -bitter rinds in a salad with lemon -- the magic, is that the magic, the magic? i want the magic, the magic, is that the magic, the magic? i want the magic, is that the magic, where's the magic, where's the magic i want the magic, where's the magic, is that the magic, is that the magic ay, -let's focus on some doses of hocus pocus with hopes it'll coax us from rope a dopes to throwin blows, in motion give visitation to engagin prestidigitation stagin impressive wavings in ways to stave the stress and hating invite the fam with a sleight of hand, now a lighter man, went from hard boiled and strident chants, to a side of ham under a spell, of wonder and well being/ a swell feeling, please reveal, anything at all appealing what's appealing, i guess that's the essence anything making me feel, stretched by its presence anything making me feel, stretched by its presence anything making me feel, like it's making me feel that's not authentic or tantric simulatin stimulatin ax-on, dendritic grim, who's facin kin who's vacant, that's scientific but that's the risk you takin, playing try to git it -i want the magic, the magic, is that the magic, the magic? -i want the magic, the magic, is that the magic, the magic? chasing the paper or the dragon's tail - chasing the fable or the wagon's wheel- wasting the faith, on the exterior wasting away, in the interior -i want the magic, the magic, is that the magic, the magic? -i want the magic, the magic, is that the magic, the magic? strict regimen -script bedouin no mad wandering the desert, glad pondering the weather strict regimen -script bedouin no mad wandering the globe, glad sauntering it slow - no mad wandering the earth, glad i wasn't on her first - never mad wandering the planet, in the end we're just savage -- is that the magic, where's the magic, where's the magic -i want the magic, where's the magic, is that the magic, is that the magic? is that the magic, is that the magic?
6.

about

The Werebear EP by Oso Negro (OR/MS) & Weighn (Boise, ID) is a dark and nimble run through rites of adulthood: discovery & independence, choices & consequence, separation from community, and finally, reflection. Weighn's sequenced beats range from spacious and dour to driving and vigorous, but always with overcast tones. Oso's melancholia grows as he travels the arc from wonder to disillusionment, digging deep with lyrics and flows throughout the journey. Werebear features album art by and a collaboration on "Maniacs" with, underground Bay legend, Z-Man (San Francisco). A funky remix of "Maniacs" by MPC beast Fresh Kils (Toronto) brings a re-imagined flavor to the track making it groove as a perfect counterpoint to the original.

credits

released April 30, 2017

Produced, mixed, mastered by Weighn Beats, Boise, ID.
weighnbeats.bandcamp.com
Lyrics, raps, coproduced by Oso Negro, OR/MS.
osonegromusic.com
Art, "Maniac" lyrics & raps by Z-Man, San Fran, CA.
"Maniac" remix produced & arranged by Fresh Kils, Toronto, ON.

Layout & graphics, by Oso.

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Oso Negro Pensacola, Florida

A recovering scientist, Oso Negro dedicated his present to hip-hop +. He can't relate to much now-a-days, so he's decided to make music of his life and time. "Breachin' kids thoughts, but aiming at the minds of men, finding them fighting tidal strength." With a twist of reggae & a splash of crooning, Oso mixes it up, keeping it fun & stimulating ... more

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