Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Casualties Of War, artist - G-Unit. Date of issue: 31.12.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Casualties Of War |
| Disrespectful |
| Anything, I let you breathe |
| Now you’re dead |
| There’s no room without casualties |
| End up in a wake when you fuck with me You got beef with my man you got beef with me I got the semi on me motherfucker you’ll see |
| Devil 'round the corner |
| Is that my dawg, that slap that cat? |
| Now how did the chicken give birth to a rat? |
| Now how did the rat learn to sing like a bird? |
| His pops is a O.G., this is absurd |
| My gun game right, my knife game right |
| Fuck around I get right, in broad daylight |
| Spin the barrel on a nigga, pin the tail on the donkey |
| It’s a zoo out this bitch, I put a hole in the monkey |
| Got the gemstars to rip 'em, hundred shots to clip 'em |
| Bodybags they zip 'em, and we don’t know a thang |
| You hit nigga you trippin, you think it’s over you trippin |
| Reload slap the clip in, back, back, strapped |
| Uhh, I drink like a uncle, smoke like a rasta |
| Ball like a superstar, talk like a boxer |
| Fuck like a rabbit, shit like a dinosaur |
| See like a sniper, lil’nigga aim height is raw |
| Ride like a Lambo', stunt like I’m out of town |
| Strap like Commando, B-A-N-K-dollar sign |
| Live everything up I won’t, change like the others, nope |
| Switch overnight I can’t, I’m outside his camp |
| I’m 'bout a dollar boy and dollar bills’ll kill |
| Kill that bullshit, I’m famous but I’m ridin with the steel |
| Will throw it all away, I see you later today |
| You’ll see I’m fadin away, that’s all I’m able to say |
| Yeah, it’s the enforcer Yayo |
| We could do it in broad daylight |
| in front of the White House for all I care |
| I blow your heart out your body sucka |
| Then jump in the Aston blastin, burnin rubber |
| Black ski mask, the Aston tinted |
| Ditch the gun, burn the car cause my DNA in it Next day it’s the GT, stunt off of G.P. |
| Fist full of stones, fingers glowin like E.T. |
| Fake O.G., O.G. |
| Bobby Jones |
| Do your son like J-Rock, Mausberg pumpin |
| I’m stuntin, focus like a digital camera |
| Got that P-95 with that invisible hammer |
| Nigga who you tryin to ride on, I’m a icon |
| Heart made of steel, balls made of ir-on |
| Devil 'round the corner, corner |