The Box Medley Funk 6 Lyrics – The Box

The Box Medley Funk 6 Lyrics Meaning

[Intro: Oruam]
This part is like a strong opening where the artist is letting out feelings that have been held in for too long. They’re standing up against the system that treats people from the favela unfairly and always sees them as criminals. The message is that being an MC doesn’t mean being a criminal. The fight isn’t over until everyone from their community makes it. If one person is still hurting, then they all feel that pain together. It sets the mood for what’s coming next—raw truth and resistance.

[Refrão: Oruam]
This chorus hits hard with the idea that music is their weapon against the system. They’re saying that even though they’ve been locked up or held back, they refuse to be silenced anymore. Taking candy from a child shows how cruel and unfair things can be, but even with all that, the favela still holds on to hope. The same lines repeated twice show how deep and constant this fight and hope are in their lives.

[Verso 1: Oruam]
Here, the rapper compares himself to a rebellious angel cast out of heaven, showing he’s been rejected by society. The rich folks around him looked down on him and his people, but all the pain pushed them to raise their voices so loud that the world had to pay attention. The line about God and the Devil shows that even if someone is loved, their wrong actions still matter. And as long as someone in the community is still suffering, their mission isn’t done.

[Refrão: Oruam]
They’re saying again that their lyrics are powerful tools to fight back. They’ve been angry since they were kids. In their neighborhood, real heroes aren’t famous people—they’re the locals who survive and stand strong. Only those who are truly part of the community are welcomed at their table.

[Interlúdio: Oruam]
This is just a short shout to Fuba, passing the mic and giving him his moment to speak up.

[Verso 2: Real Fuba]
Fuba brings the raw emotion of what it’s like growing up in the favela. Kids there are often left needing things, and that creates deep anger toward the system. His crew is like a unit, sticking together while dealing with the pain. They smoke, remember lost friends, and feel the weight of those who are in jail. He wants the government to stop interfering and just let them live in peace. Riding through the “jungle” of the favela on his motorbike, he still smokes and feels the absence of his brothers who’ve passed. He talks about how, from a young age, he’s had fire in his eyes and anger in his heart. Now he’s using his time in the studio to create music instead of being caught in violence. If not for rap, he might’ve ended up shooting back at the police. The verse circles back to where it started, showing how things don’t really change. It’s a loop of pain, survival, and memories—but they keep pushing forward.

[Refrão: Oruam & Real Fuba]
Again, they come back to how powerful their words are. Even if they’ve been locked up or pushed down, they won’t stay quiet. Life has been unfair, even cruel, but the favela still holds on to hope, and they won’t stop fighting.

[Verso 3: Didi & Oruam]
They talk about how hard it is to win when you’re Black and come from the bottom, but they’re doing it anyway. They tell people who envy or look down on them to stay away. The street and the hood understand each other, and violence is part of that world—both cops and criminals are dying, and the cycle keeps going. They point out how the government attacks them, but when they fight back, they’re labeled the villains. One line recalls someone who yelled out a name before dying, showing how quick and brutal things can end. The final words are angry and raw—cursing the system and saying crime is still winning, no matter what the government tries.

[Interlúdio: Oruam]
This part introduces Luanzin. Oruam shares a real moment—how Luanzin once asked for a chance to rap, and when he got it, he turned it into something golden. It’s a proud handoff to the next voice.

[Verso 4: Luanzin]
Luanzin paints a picture of the daily violence in the favela, where gunshots are more constant than music. He compares the sound of gunfire to a melody that never stops. There’s no soft, peaceful music here—just chaos. He comes from Complexo do Alemão, a tough place, but he sees himself like a falcon flying low and fast, focused and sharp. He calls himself a diamond, showing he’s tough and valuable despite all the pressure. Things used to be worse for him, but now he’s doing better—even though he’s still surrounded by danger. He repeats some lines to show how constant and intense this life is.

[Refrão: Oruam]
One last time, the chorus reminds us that their lyrics are their way of standing up and fighting back. Being locked up or pushed aside won’t silence them anymore. Life in the favela takes a lot from them, even the smallest joys, but the people there still carry hope and strength.

[Saída: Oruam]
This outro is raw and unfiltered. It’s like a final shout-out to their crew, claiming their space and attitude, mixing pride with frustration. It’s their way of saying they’re here, they’re real, and they’re not holding back.