Cereal Box Philosophy

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Otis Mensah

Otis Mensah is an alternative hip-hop and spoken word artist, and Poet Laureate of Sheffield, UK. more »

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Sling that Cereal Box Philosophy
The Sharman of the socials
The fool's a fortune telling probe;
Trying to talk the most 'woke truth'
Woe is he who preaches that he know you
It's been a minute since the pain spill out
I've been suppressing the pressures
Blessed till the sun go down
Beckoning thunder under my tongue we're all just sons of a child
Learning to pick up a mans game
And my thoughts on wild
WOWZ
Electricity blessed with the best trilogy
Death is just rest
Rid my of stress from the nest knitting me
It means all of my choices the same
And all the outcomes that remain are redundant
Just throw me under a lonely number
Miscommunicating to his only neighbour
We chose altercations over peace of mind to feel we're trading places
Phases from elevation to feeling vacant
Filling empty corridors in fact with happy ideas
Feeling solid consolidation
Moderation left logic depleted 'cause my entire placement is build of my elation
And maximising itself and duplicating itself
At the cost of my health
The Hubris made the Ego famous
Ergo I need notation to move my glacier of self
Sun gazing in a grapefruit waiting for change
Like three weeks later
Seeker of New a Sharman in shards
I'd rather be chic and aloof
Than feeling blue playing lost boy in the booth
Avoiding the truth
More a chore than a therapy
More a cause than a casualty
Lord we all fall for the peril
Pray the devil leaves
Soak my past life in the kerosine
To bath in light works of Serenity
You know how the weather be
Raindrops pierce skin like bullet holes
Where we trap God in rectangular silicone
Worship trap-gods and materialism pharos
Stuck in this monotone and this Solipsism my dome alone
I guillotine a G.O.A.T, coming and see a show
All my peers sold their soul to hold money to their ear like a mobile phone;
No one's answering that call
That's a cancer of cause what's the masculinity mantra that you mourn
Don’t show your feels to hold your own
Are you a Coca Cola clone or a Motorola bro
About to overthrow
Capital kings
Rooted in the colonisers sins
I mean at least in ideology it's much harder with practical things
So we make fringe art and sing latter-day hymns
Binge ate the empty noose
Praying on hard times and bruising my shins
Feel like I'm loosing my limbs
A drop of sleep in the ocean of forever
That's the pill that killed Prince
We call the pilgrims torch Jerichos walls and call my next of kin
To say he's off-kilter and tilting buildings again
The way I feel within, kind of bewildering
Sort of Seasonal Affective from the limelight
And it caught me from the blindside
Swallowing molotov cocktails
Everyone in the biz laughs at me because I'm still using hotmail
Santa Claus was actually a white male but Jesus wasn't
Send my prayers up and leave this plight
WELL
I hate that ignorant ish like 'one day you'll make it big'
I guess you don't know what I go through on the daily kid
Pumped up kicks my gun is big about to blow my led
My poetry never fails but still can't save the whales

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