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1. |
The Air Up Here
02:40
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Watching veins popping from brains rotting
While I’m slap boxing rain drops with blade swats
to stain oxen
from lames name dropping to chain rocking,
game mocking, wannabe ballers falling all on the floor
when their change dropping.
My aim lock in, flame hocking, the thing popping
shots to stop, drop, n rock em
Knock em off with the spray til their broken legs hopping.
Now they gotta use a cane for walking. (it’s a shame)
Their just ain’t no stopping him from jotting them gems
Spotting bends in the lens, watching em blend…
Fresh blood, guess what..got thirst for the flavor.
Heads spread when I shred em. I got versatile razors.
They couldn’t step their shit up with a personal trainer.
Write raps with a protractor to circulate bangers.
Hollering hollow bullets…
I should be known as a shot caller.
Sicker than you ripping…Sicking on you a rottweiler.
Watch you drop yer wallet…
How it don’t got guala?
Box’ll eat you on the feature you just copped for top dollar.
I’m rock solid when it comes to setting skies.
It’s payday, whattaya say? Tryna get high?
I’ll turn yer neck into a runway just to make yer head fly.
(tryna get fly?)
Wildwest tongue-slinger, Bug-winged fungi eater,
Real humdinger, Seashell bell ringer.
Steam snails for dinner, fill my liver up with liquor,
N stay getting iller…
Get up n lay these tracks before I make my way off the map.
“Everyone’s so fashionable these days”. Look at that!
Swing baseball bats to mash faces flat, rock fades sideways,
n knock haircuts outta crooked caps.
It they’re What’s Up, must be yer ears that’s wack.
Who put yer asses down?
Shouldn’t be allowed any where near rap.
Now What’s Up!? You hit the ground…SPLAT!! …I hear that.
If I see your band popping bands, know I’m bound to snap.
Me n my team need c.r.e.a.m. so I’ma Take That!
Straight bashing snake cats n fake acts.
Laying smack from spanked ass to gaped gash.
Breaking break-pads, We make cash like Dame Dash, Raise flags.
All praises to the great Kane n Hash…
J23, B.A.G., BOXREB, M.C. We thrash!
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2. |
Sundog
03:13
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Breathe in the steam n receive the vision.
Meek became eagles when them feebles listened.
Fill scriptures with pictures.
Delivering sick depictions…
Get wit em or get to getting.
Bruh, my mind is bugged like the eyes of a pug,
“Hi” on drugs, “Wuttup I am Guts”…(I’m Done)
Nah, I’d lie but..
Any mighty lion tryna insight a fight with these pioneers
here’ll find a spear right inside their ears.
When I’m writing at night I can hear
lightning striking outside my sphere…
Then silence in the air right before I disappear.
My tongue get all liquored-up n gun pussies down.
Spitting to split gashes, come fuck wit me NOW.
Keep bumping the sounds deep under the ground
Squeeze pumping these rounds…
Steez humbling clowns.
This heat…Is some serious torture.
I really need some water
Box is (boxes) all up in the muhfuckin crib,
like he’s a hoarder.
On a roll so I know I may as well keep on going
In a boat, so we gotta keep on rowing.
Hot or cold when I flow with the green glowing. (schmoke)
Get the o’s for the low so we can keep rolling.
Hoes love to show us choach yo, she’s open!
High as fuck up off the vibe, cuz the stee is potent.
Line for line all my rhymes got the sleaze soaking. (thirsty bitches)
Bout time that our songs got your wreathes growing.
Outside in the trees with the breeze blowing.
Fiends be knowing, so Yo! Just get beamed up over
N see if you can see the scene roasting…
Below ya! …Imagery toasted.
Breathe in the steam n receive the vision.
Meek became eagles when them feebles listened.
Fill scriptures with pictures.
Delivering sick depictions…
Get wit em or get to getting.
Scripts hit like fists n leave em holding their jaws.
Spit sniping wigs. I ain’t joking witchyall.
Make no mistake guy, the rhymes I spray drive a stake
through the face of any sly side-winding snake
who ain’t grinding straight, or even getting live.
Paying a lot, but not playing for high stakes.
All them muhfuckas be tryna sound just like
them other rappers, that’s doing way better…
But how could they be just as nice,
when they ain’t spitting for the same cheddar?
Ah man, is that true?
Yeah! That’s why me n my tribe’s raps run laps
that blast you out yer damn track shoes.
Crack statues in a tattered track suit! (Bruce!!)
(Shoot) if roses are red n violets are blue, then ghost ship.
They’re all dead when I silenced their “crews”.
Huge holes in their heads slimy with ooze.
Now souls can behold the violence he spews. I puke!…
The most loathsome boatload to soak em all Wet!
Laying back, whacked!…All cool.
Improve medicines n pull skeletons from fossil fuels
hanging out under fire hydrants in a tidal pool.
The rivals flew to dive through skies with viper drool.
Disguised as alliance troops.
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3. |
Slow Bucks
03:05
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I’m a black shadow cast over the great mountains.
Kill every track I’m on. How could they still be doubting?
Setting my foot on top of your town,
the ground’ll spray up a fountain.
Staying laying it down. Raining (reigning)
You can’t say there’s really a doubt then.
It’s only holy land cuz it’s been sanctified with an ocean of blood.
Seen Georgia O’ Keeffe paintings n peeped the labia opening up.
How you seeing my pen game ride the short bus
when I been trying so hard to cover it up? What the fuck?!
This retarded shit I just thought up’s already been a cross to bear.
I use my tooth as a gun, but also do this shit for fun,
Son, you could get yer lil hyper wind-pipe sniped. DONE.
(Outta here) With Caution aired!
Yeh, I’ll spike a Titan with Poseidon’s trident, causing tears.
I don’t know why these kids are still writing,
I done split off all their ears.
N keep em bleeding on steps, eaten by pests.
My steez knock the meat outta beef n leave it defleshed. I’m REB!
N Box is the name. Popping shots at yer frame.
I’ll chop every blood sucker out of this game! What!
He uses his music to exercise many devils,
N you could maybe understand, but that seems to depend
On how deep in the deep end you n yer peeps even really been.
So I set it off like..”Wuttup World! Fuck you!…
My Sun Tzu get yer huns nude. One, two…
Kick off yer kung-fu school’s banner n run through
more trees than a big fat family of pandas…Lungs blue.
See yer baby moms give birth n squirt at the BananaRama.
Y’all should come through!
Probably gotta click the hammer just to send something hot.
To the kids, I’m Santa. Getting high up on a rooftop.
Hit me up with a beat? I’ll hook you with a Cobra.
You don’t even need to chip down I’ll get you a whole one.
Hold up Son! Everyone on yer team’s feeling outta luck.
Tryna slang their CDs n only making a few bucks.
That’s why I truly don’t give a loose fuck
who’s spending money on what,
but if you ain’t copping from me, you a duck! Straight up.
Whoever touch mics after is getting no love
Cuz when I rock a scene it proves everyone who oppose sucks.
Picking feathers out of chickens n they don’t cluck. (dead)
I flip the flow. How I tricked yer hoe. (Hip Hop!)
Got head, stole her bread, n told bitch to “Hit the road”
The Tongue Gun thinks yer cold stuck, stubborn old fuck.
Put a slug on the middle of yer shirt (right there)
SlowBucks.
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4. |
Searching For Light
03:02
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Cursing the darkness
Searching for light
Mercenary archers
lurk in the night
Earthlings are targets
Purging’s on sight
The burning of carcasses
Serpents ignite
(x 2)
(Big man shit. That’s how you heard it’s how it get)
Know I’m the Set Rocker,
The Sickest Perverted Sex Doctor,
The Head Popper,
The Foot Right Down On Top Of Yer Neck Stomper,
The REB BOXER,
That homie ready to Red Ox ya!
The Flesh Chopper,
The Forever Incredible Gem Dropper,
The Phlegm Hocker,
The Twisted Mister Who Get Proper,
The Best Pot Crop Copper.
Who got the keg?
That kid quick to get it lit
n popping fresh out the box like Orville Redenbacher.
The Four Figure Leg Locker.
When I’m spitting, bitch
Hope that vest is a lead stopper.
Don’t let em drop ya.
Electricity Wet Shocker,
The Sick Muhfucka With The Biggest Set Of Chompers
Going bonkers, rolling frontos, growing stronger…
I’m Yer Monster Under The Bed’s Monster.
Cursing the darkness
Searching for light
Mercenary archers
lurk in the night
Earthlings are targets
Purging’s on sight
The burning of carcasses
Serpents ignite
(x 2)
Wire frame hangers detach from the backs of paintings.
Chasing me through haunted hallways
While I’m barely escaping.
Scratching away at the door.
Banging n scraping as I make my way out the fort
Pavement is breaking beneath my feet peeling off.
Satan’s awakening.
Grinning teeth eating all nature’s unveilings.
Gleaming beak, steaming jaws…Reaching n leaching
Creature’s feasting on raw meat from anything that
leaps in or falls.
Sweeping n reaping through people with saws.
Crushing n mushing their guts with such force
That blood was just gushing from punctures n pores.
It poured like buckets,
n dumped outta stumps on his horns
Muck stuck in the tusks.
Mug’s encrusted in gore.
Gnawed rubbish n chum clusters in chunks
hung to the floor.
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5. |
Cyborg In The Staircase
02:10
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They getting thowed??..Then I’ma reel em back.
My phlegm flows when I’m searing fat. (lemme cook)
I bend bones til I hear em snap
N end foes when I’m peeling caps.
They vent souls when I tear em flaps.
I sense clones when I hear em rap. (fuck that!)
Let them know I ain’t feeling that! (at all)
I pen scrolls, then I seal with wax
to dent domes til their ceilings crack.
My friends dope! They been killing tracks! (BAGs)
My Rebels should be seeing stacks. (B.R.)
Attend our shows, get a building packed.
Left heads soaked when I wield an axe.
Pick up o’s man I rip through packs.
Y’all can’t get us stoned off a fifty sack. (nah)
Get red n choke like you hitting dabs.
Yer temple’s where my spear is at!
In jungles off the gridded map.
I’m crushing skulls with the strength of a silverback.
(step back)
You kick rhymes or they kicking you?
You getting fly or them flies getting you?
I think it’s time for the Daily News.
The headline’s saying “Make A Noose”.
They been blind to the basic truth.
I’ll take their eyes out n make a soup.
I send snipers if they’re faking moves,
N end cyphers when I spray on loops.
Fresh minds on my suede boots.
This lead pipe may remove a tooth.
I write fire when I’m in the stu. Come through.
Sky high when I set it on yer crews.
It’s a drive-by when I’m wetting up grooves.
The whip flying n I set it on cruise.
I stay shredding tires, you could smell my fumes.
Apocalyptic Hunger got me selling lotta doom.
Lock n load the shoulder cannon
Aiming at yer squad…BOOM!
My fangs fucking the game up
Cuz their really ain’t a whole lotta room.
I see yer god n his angels waiting
Hoping that I’m coming soon.
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6. |
Portal Door
03:28
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Left my favorite pair of Air trainers outside the portal door
Slide around in house shoes, zooming through the corridor.
The flavors just can’t be stopped.
I been saving Hip Hop with my last 18 drops.
I got product galore. All of it raw, For sure.
All aboard better cop n support.
What you geeks really know about looks being deceiving?
I’ll pop the top of yer meter while you in the middle of reading it.
Bleeding immediately.
Get defeated quickly with the speed n shifty
Scriptures dipped in demon whisky. (Git!)
Find you upside-down in Atlanta
floating around in the Chattahoochee, Foaming n bloated
like some ass after smashing a fat coochie.
On trash duty. Glad bagging wack rappers
Til the entire map can look back n salute me.
(Get squished)
Like..”Bitches, you don’t really want this ish…
I’ll smash yer heads together til yer eyeballs eclipse.
Left my favorite pair of Air trainers outside the portal door
Slide around in house shoes, zooming through the corridor.
Passing the liqs. Traveling lit. Crashing the whip. Bashing yer shit!
Turn yer lights out quick, That’s Edison.
Gassing the kid, National Grid gas in the spliff. Bags of the piff!
Acid for trips. Daggers I spit, Blowing out the back of yer wig!
Cracking yer lid. Splashing yer bitch.
Asking to live. Flashing her tits.
Shit, I probably coulda got some cash for this slit.
Glass in a fist slashing your wrists. That’s what it is!
Catching a kid flapping his lips n put a sick gash in his ribs.
Then trashing the bitch. Kick his hag in a ditch.
Lit crackling stiff of a cackling witch.
Hack her to bits, laugh, stagger, then slip, n get that ass trapped in a pit.
I know the ledge.
A dude stood too close to the train tracks today…
N broke open his whole head.
Impale wizards. I smell gizzards. Two tailed lizards. Hail blizzards.
The hell is this B? You tryna set sails n fail miserably?
Detailed mysteries. He felt misery. Deep Hell in held ministry.
Left my favorite pair of Air trainers outside the portal door
Slide around in house shoes, zooming through the corridor.
(2)
I feel the mold about to break. Earth surface quakes.
Shifting of dinner plates. Pangea. Spinach n steak.
Getting baked before digging in. This shit is just great.
Setting em straight. Severing snake heads in space.
Levitating, tasting venom n hate.
Penning their fates. Sending pretenders stakes
Placed dead in the face!
Shredding them fake paper chasers that’ll never relate.
Settle debates.
It ain’t a race, but I’m setting the pace.
Leveling planes.
Chemist with a pencil n page peddling flames.
Selling pain with a devilish rage.
Hell of an aim, when it rains…
Letting lead off at their necks with a Bang!
Wreckage I bring hitting the brain.
Etch my message in their flesh
Making a mess with a blade.
Delicate veins…Clip n spray…
Rip through shit, left a big stain.
What remains, red n grey metal wet when I slay.
The rest just get swept away.
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7. |
Fata Morgana
02:39
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Gonzo Reb..Fronto Breath.
Tanto swept across your neck.
Bobble-head with wobbling legs.
Stomp on top of chests until rivals all dead.
Slide off set. Vitals spread.
Got all red on tribal steps.
Pencil filled to the top
Popping with unstoppable chopper lead.
Mental spills when it’s shot n drops.
Spitting in opticals while I shred.
Letting shit rock like I got head.
Spending on twats like I got bread!…
N charm beaver.
Heaving on strong cheeba.
Feeling like I could beat up Xena.
Steve Armstrong, “Arena”.
I harm divas.
Deviously bomb demons.
Dealing with good n evil leaders.
Keep on guard heaters.
My bong cleaner.
Breathing on non-believers.
Bleeding in the woods
Eaten by scheming cheetahs.
Even hyenas swarming all over the gore
Like an earth core warm, newborn fetus.
Recording the meanest roars
From a spore-hoarding greedy genius.
Peace to all those aboard
Who needed to see this…
I keep a cleaver by my sneakers, bitch!
N kick shit for the forlorn hedonists.
Then sweep slit grips.
Ripped to relieve their wrists.
I deal with pussy on the regular.
I gets laid.
They’re all pussy on the regular.
“Night and Day”
Try n push me off a pedestal…
I won’t sway.
Pocket money out yer register.
I’ll get paid.
Time to butcher you for flesh n serve
Piles of snake.
Rip the hoodie off yer head with nerves.
Hide your face!
Spit a loogie on the messenger…
Toxic waste!
Stood cooking til the pressure bursts,
Popping veins.
All goody when the henchmen burn…
Drop in flames.
Watch rookie get a lesson learned.
Squashing lames.
Caught whoopings from the lecturer…
Sloshing brains.
Lost footing on the ledge for sure…
Crossing lanes.
Walk crooked off the edge n turn,
Hogs to stains.
Pork gushing on cement while birds,
toss remains.
Pull cookies out the mess til worms,
Floss its frame.
Corpse looking all irregular,
Cause it’s maimed.
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8. |
Dead Walking
02:40
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Traffic lights laced with the snitch-cam got me learning some patience.
Just sitting there waiting…Twisting n blazing.
Vision worth chasing but i never really been into racing.
UFO glowing bright on the side of the road.
Time to pull over, roll the windows down, n focus.
Lo n behold the scene when gravity leaves
As tractor beams blast the V,
Lifts me outta my seat n floats us.
Now we’re riding in the Chariot of the Gods
While the sky fills with hi-voltage,
Sidewinding lightning bolts struck my skull crushed all pulpous.
Convulsing til my soul rushed
Outta poked holes when the jolts pulled Guts!
(21 grams!!)
“What’s on the scale?
Bust down for sale…
Drugs in the mail.
Bug out n sail.”
Dropping that heavy shit like I could flush down a whale.
Popping that Henny quick til I get drunk out my shell.
Chumming for real. Chunks in a pail.
Strung up some eels, hung from their gills. (ill!)
If they ain’t trying to lay in an Iron Maiden,
These aliens better Run For The Hills. (chill)
Spreading The Virus (j23) to all kinds of clients,
Like a bloated corpse in a hotel water tank,
With its insides getting liquified n rotten.
Deaded from violence. Left wetter than islands.
Arms n legs were severed then piled in a room,
To be later consumed on a day when it’s raining.
Fillets of flank steaks’ll be cut away from the frame.
Peep the way these pieces of meat keep leaking
From draining veins while it’s hanging.
Embrace brains in a vase.
Painting the place with a razor that scrapes
Layers of cake away from a face shaving.
A raging ape, Strangely grace saving.
Saying Grace, Thanking the decaying shanks
For making such great platings…
Takes training…Intake’s mainly drinks
For weight gaining.
Gazing at snakes hating.
Maybe they ain’t ate lately.
Their fates aching, aging fangs breaking.
Incubated eggs baking.
They can shed their skins naked, vainly.
While faded complaining.
Raising Kane with a caiman wavy on cane,
Craving a taste for deranged sapian paste.
They shake laymans n maim their waists.
Gaping vacant, in pain. Spraying n flailing.
I stay impaling saints on stakes for The Greats
Hailing his grace.
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9. |
Bleach (feat. Marrow)
02:54
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(Boxguts)
“REBS TIL DEATH” Read across headstone.
Throw scraps to surrounding hounds down to fetch bones.
Collect Councilmen Bounties. Dousing red robes.
Crowns get gouged. Fountains spouting, Dead soaked.
Storms forecasted. Peel mountains, get ghost.
Avalanche on the heels…Time to shred slopes.
Sledding by Yetis crying. Ice lined optics.
Wanna ride lightning til it fires outta frying sockets!
Hospitalized…Describe arrival of a shiny comet.
“An unidentified eye-blinding flying object”…
Gem Phlegm Pile to the sky…
God’s private island.
Inside the mind, Endless supply of giant diamonds.
Cyborg with platinum grill…
Chattering, gleeking stones.
Freeze breeze cold enough to make teeth explode.
Cannibalism driven visions retrieve beef.
It’s a muhfuckin Beast Feast just to “be what you eat”.
Guts crushing buds to grease bloody machines.
Burnt so much diesel, he’s becoming a tree.
Skeleton of the rap, snap necks back n calcify.
Blowing silver haze to the face, getting galvanized.
Drop rocks on tin-heads, throwing up scotch.
Pop tops with pin-pricks, blowing up spots.
Dismantle profane cattle.
Battery nonstop.
Human Organ Black Market.
Back-Alley Chop-Shop.
(Marrow)
thoughts wrought a master tally
top assassin like velosa raptor lawry
flow from the athabaska to madagascar atom smasher
bomb cyclotron mic is on cypher strong the type of sight im on hike along
the toxin view 360 degree owl optic
graves a spacious interior your spirits inferior
this is god damn bomb land lyric of syria seriously sick
bacteria appearing in script
line for line planet bright like syrius glimpsed
the shining of a childs mind the blood flow lucid i'll prove it
fuck your dough dufice
in combat super glue the wound for movement
bazooka zoom new cocoon attunement
atlas rap that verse enertia
spit heat like burma learn the cursive merger
you servant - my bitch learn from wikka worship a fowl art
flippin what the kitchen servin - no cow parts
the sound march from where the clouds chart
like nas i excell
the math surpass a class aghast like the clock struck twelve
when our doctors chop you cough up what they crop dust the cells
this locked up like lost luck in hell they lost touch and fell
what i sell to clientelle - raps propelled
the flux rocked like buck shot took the top off these shells
with boxguts these knock off get knocked off the shelves
they ghost they ghost
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BOXGUTS
Hot Bref Boy
Mutilator G U T S
Original art/Raw spit
BOXREB
jOHNNY23
BkAssassinsGuild
Contact for features, shows, and other commissions.
withkoji.com/@Boxguts
... more
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