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bird box, pt. 2 - rx papi lyrics

[verse 1: boldy james]
f*ck a bird box, got a box of birds
pull up on the third block, pumpin’ roxies undeferred
i got thirty*somethin’ shots in this glock, do not disturb
heard he wanna run with blocks, he must got a lot of nerve
slidin’ with this mop, icy as a berg
made a left off of vermont, called up pop, i gotta serve
deuce of [?] all in my pop, lately i been on the verge
grew up beefin’ with my opps, like the rockets and the spurs
5.56s get dispersed, from the projects to the ‘burbs
have my k!llers from new jers’ run your pockets, n*ggas cursed
while i’m breakin’ down a chirp, somewhere lockin’ up a bird
i put in a lot of work, finally got what i deserve
foreigns parked all on the curb, two jail calls i gotta merge
auntie workin’ on my nerves, she just called with ninety percs
thirty blues and sixty norcs, hundred oranges, six of purp
unk, he keep comin’ up short, he still owe me from the first
i wish [?] was here to tell ’em out his mouth, in his own words
all the tech that we were sellin’, all the ounces we done served
all the pots that we done stirred, run the route, then bust a swerve
wintertime chinchilla furs, now i’m coppin’ his and her’s
plugged in like a power surge, [?]
fifty guap, we finna purge, up this glock and sh*t a t*rd
when i saw my first rock, i was on the block, was scurred
all these different color pills, sh*t look like a box of nerds
when they k!lled my brother [?], had me at a loss for words
i got k!llers comin’ home, all that time that they done served
homeboy cappin’ like he him, sh*t, but that’s not what i heard
[verse 2: rx papi]
every time i sleep, that pistol by my side
that b*tch bring me peace of mind
know how to read between the lines
and i don’t know why you even try
mama tried to tell me that ain’t my dawg
i don’t know how i ain’t see the signs
don’t believe what they speakin’ in they rhymes
auntie been geekin’ ’bout a dime
b*tch, my block like columbine, every day you hear n*ggas dyin’
they took your man? you better slide
and get on get*back for your guys
my mama say, “it’s a cold world”, i’m in the trap with a li’l girl
i been cookin’ dope since three this mornin’
i ain’t have this sh*t, i’d prob’ly earl
they say, “broke can’t lead the broke”
y’all know blind can’t lead the blind
that’s the first thing that i think e’rytime bk come in my mind
i don’t wanna talk, it get declined
on the percs to ease my nerves
in the kitchen, i seen it first
just call my line when you need the work
papi ain’t never had no job; i never seen the need to work
i serve anita every first; fat l!ck, he look like gerald levert
robert reed gone bad, n*gga did all kinda sh*t
you gotta hurry up n*gga, good time you’re takin’
twelve blitz the trap, they tryna find the chickens
keep your f*ckin’ mouth shut and mind your business
you see papi at the stove, he handlin’ his business
i up the gl!ck and turn a n*gga to a victim
they like, “aw sh*t, now he buggin’ and he trippin'”
percocet pills got a young n*gga itchin’
i’ll walk in this b*tch like bobby murcer
i drive the audi myself, i don’t need a chauffeur
my b*tch trippin’ ’bout a b*tch, i don’t even know her
we know that’s not your foreign n*gga, that’s a loaner
all by myself, papi a loner; unk knockin’ 4:45 in the mornin’
i’m in the trap feelin’ like this b*tch haunted
this a big*ass backwood, not a fronto
i’ll walk in this b*tch with bussdown buffs
bust a n*gga in his sh*t for actin’ tough
horsepower’ll leave a n*gga in the dust
four*five leave a n*gga in the trunk
these n*ggas move like they voted for trump
i walk in this b*tch like the top one
hit my n*gga boldy like, “we got one”
not the two or three, b*tch, we the ones
real rx

- rx papi lyrics

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