The 6 O'Clock News

by Lewis Morris

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1.
(VERSE 1) - Lewis Got prayers and vendettas tucked into the pocket of my wallet where the dollars sits, a wishing well for cynics. Call it clinical… the emotions I attach to tragedy, it's pitiful… Write some songs, but they crumble to ash as it visits you… So, likely… I'm rapping to galaxy of ears that ain't listening… Or rather, you'll get echos of my screams, but it'll be whispering… Hallow. Finding meaning in the bullshit, but, it'll wait till tomorrow. Procrastinating philosoph, fill my soul with rage. Imagine silhouettes of pickets signs, in a crowd, like is it time? Cops looking at us like they're hungry, and it's dinner time. Riot gear just in case one of us steps out of line. Back in the day, the hippies placed ripe freshly plucked flowers in the barrels of officer's rifles. But, chanting kumbaya nowadays ain't gonna stifle the trigger fingers itching to end another life, so…. (CHORUS X2) - Lewis Watching the news, us niggas are main attractions… Fodder for white people to aid another distraction… Debate about this violence, as if this never happens… There is no new violence. Only selective silence. (VERSE 2) - Oompa How’d I wind up on this choppin block I mean this auction block, Taking shots, Watching niggas playing hop or scotch With all this talk of drawing chalk Sum bout tossing rocks got it locked down in the dark to the top of codman park pop the commerce in the pot, Watch him fall off if when it’s watched Politicians on the creep, half sleep but get to call the shots Watching mamas call the cops To find some peace But find her peace in rest Arrested in development No rasondon on this cassette, In fact the tapes weren’t subpoenaed Despite a mama screaming her daughter slaughtered In the project corridor bleeding, Trauma singing Holding her hand clinging To life, Screaming, lord don’t let her leave me pleading no police in sight So, we live by this code, Believe nothing you see Tell nothing you know and you could live to 23 so No 25-life no indictment, No convictions i’m conflicted cuz those was probably my niggas that did it. (CHORUS X2) - Oompa (VERSE 3) - Lewis Fear of societal rejection got a nigga throwing poison darts at his reflection… The lesson here is that the rally for safety and survival always happens in the valley, but never in the ghetto. Ambulance lights dance, and some niggas might glance, and ponder their mortality, frightened by the reality of life being shortened by a cop with a gun, a nigga with a gun, or the stress of wondering which one. (VERSE 4) - Oompa So, call us crabs in a barrel make us out some savage cats Like, in fact the barrel's a crab’s Nat-ur-al habitat. but don’t unravel that. maybe this is the cynic moving in me maybe i just been through shit maybe i’m just still a newbie maybe schooling is my duty and my duty’s my undoing and your empty promises and prospects don’t enthuse me either way as casually as we treat casualties as balancing the cost and benefits of war this ain’t no different to me. (CHORUS X2) - Lewis & Oompa
2.

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Written by Lewis Morris and Lakiyra Williams
Produced by Lewis M.
Contains clip of The Dick Cavett Show

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released January 23, 2016

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Lewis Morris Providence, Rhode Island

Lewis M. is a boston-based (and Providence born) poet, beatmaker, and MC. He has performed at the Apollo Theater in NYC, The Smithsonian, among many other venues. His beats retain a refreshingly simplified approach to hip-hop production that harkens back to the boom-bap of the 90's while remaining fresh and new.

To inquire about purchasing beats, contact him at:
Lewis.Morris@flatlinepoetry.com
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