City Morgue, ZillaKami, SosMula - Boy in the Box Lyrics

(Yung Germ)

Waitin' for that boy preparing drop kicks
Like the matches, burning 'em's an option
Niggas put they heads out when I pop in
Can't see where I was like a nigga in the mud
Equivalent to twenty lashes modern day
five punches to the face is on your dinner plate
Go into the backyard, nigga, dig your grave
Soften up the dirt, prepare to get murked
Pain, pain, pussy gang bang
Insane rage, need a pay raise
Sell crack, Xans, Fentanyl
Take your drugs, kiddo, they will make you grow up tall
Cigarettes startin' to make a motherfucker cough
Not even my bitch can get a motherfucker off
Pull up to the party, niggas actin' like I'm soft
I'ma stab that nigga 'til they fuckin' pull me off

Mud got the boy in the box
Flies fly around him while he rots
Winter preserves him in the cold
Covered up in fuckin' black mold
Mud got the boy in the box
Flies fly around him while he rots
Winter preserves him in the cold
Covered up in fuckin' black mold

What you know 'bout catchin' bodies in that turf war? (Doot-doot-doot-doot-doot)
What you know 'bout catchin' bodies in that real war? (Bop-bop-bop-bop)
Ah, we throwin' bodies off the third floor (nyoom)
Ah, I hit your body with the Mossberg (doot-doot-doot-doot-doot)
Ah, moshpit on the block (moshpit on the)
Moshpit on our opps (ewok, ewok)
Moshpit on the cops (ewok, ewok)
Ah, cartridge with the stocks (doot-doot-doot)
Heartless with the opps (doot-doot-doot)
Park bench he was shot (bop-bop-bop)
Ah, I can't die before my time go (no-no, no-no)
Rocket launchers like I'm Rondonumbanine though (boom, boom)
Big Glock .9 in my Number (N)ine clothes (doot-doto-doot)
We skip stop signs, driving with my eyes closed (nyoom-nyoom-nyoom)

Mud got the boy in the box
Flies fly around him while he rots
Winter preserves him in the cold
Covered up in fuckin' black mold
Mud got the boy in the box
Flies fly around him while he rots
Winter preserves him in the cold
Covered up in fuckin' black mold