Boldy James, Rx Papi - Bird Box, Pt. 2 lyrics

Fuck 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 Tris all in my pop
Lately I been on the verge
Grew up beefin' with my opps
Like the Rockets and the Spurs
556s get dispersed
From the projects to the 'burbs
Have my killers from New
Jers' run your pockets, niggas 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 shit a turd
When I saw my first rock, I was on the block
Was scurred all these different color pills
Shit look like a box of Nerds
When they killed my brother
Had me at a loss for words
I got killers comin' home
All that time that they done served
Homeboy cappin' like he him, shit
But that's not what I heard

Every time I sleep, that pistol by my side
That bitch 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
Bitch, my block like Columbine
Every day you hear niggas 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 shit, 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 lick
He look like Gerald Levert
Robbery gone bad, nigga did all kinda shit
You gotta hurry up nigga
Good time you're takin'
Twelve blitz the trap
They tryna find the chickens
Keep your fuckin' mouth shut
And mind your business
You see Papi at the stove
He handlin' his business
I up the Glick and turn a nigga to a victim
They like, "Aw shit
Now he buggin' and he trippin'"
Percocet pills got a young nigga itchin'
I'll walk in this bitch like Bobby Murcer
I drive the Audi myself
I don't need a chauffeur
My bitch trippin' 'bout a bitch
I don't even know her
We know that's not your foreign nigga
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 bitch haunted
This a big-ass Backwood, not a fronto
I'll walk in this bitch with bussdown Buffs
Bust a nigga in his shit for actin' tough
Horsepower'll leave a nigga in the dust
Four-five leave a nigga in the trunk
These niggas move like they voted for Trump
I walk in this bitch like the top one
Hit my nigga Boldy like, "We got one"
Not the two or three, bitch, we the ones
Real Rx