| Two blunts, a Rolls Phantom
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| A bottle of Hennessy and a red bandanna nigga
|
| Roll that shit up!
|
| Casualties of war!
|
| The epic of a general
|
| True story of a life so critical
|
| That we strive for, gauges good strong (?)
|
| Even when you had to stand alone
|
| Stand alone
|
| We stand alone
|
| We stand alone
|
| Casualties of war!
|
| Nickel plated nina, street dreamin'
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| Fuck Frank Lucas nigga, fuck receipt thinkin'
|
| Gangstas dont snitch, we at the block and pitch
|
| On that wrought iron fence, cops roll up, I ain’t seen shit
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| 501 Levis, smellin' like I just cooked a brick of crack
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| Nigga as a matter of fact I did
|
| So let the feds come
|
| It’s gonna be some homicide mixed with a lotta Redrum
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| Red rags and red beams and Red Karpet
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| Slum nigga, that hoodstar that feds target
|
| Goon squad, nigga check up on our pedigree
|
| I’ve been doing this, fuck is y’all tellin' me?
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| Not a damn thing, generals don’t take orders
|
| You niggas snitches, walk around with 'ol tape recorders
|
| I’m on that block, thick, Bentley and that cockpit
|
| Official bloodline, you other niggas counterfit
|
| Casualties of war!
|
| The epic of a general
|
| True story of a life so critical
|
| That we strive for, gauges good strong (?)
|
| Even when you had to stand alone
|
| Stand alone
|
| We stand alone
|
| We stand alone
|
| Casualties of war!
|
| I never front, that’s for hoe niggas
|
| Fuck with my trap, BAAT BAAT!
|
| Like Proposition Joe nigga
|
| Omar is dead, put that shit on The Wire
|
| I got a shitload of crack, give a nigga some fire
|
| I got a blunt and a drop top Phantom
|
| And I’m feelin' like a kingpin in my hood
|
| What’s good nigga?!
|
| Gunmetal '09, look at the hood and go blind
|
| I stay fuckin' niggas up, I should be on showtime
|
| Call me the Manny Pacquiao
|
| Me king, now bitch BAOW!
|
| Every time I step on the block I count a few thou'
|
| I’m a rebel, push the pedal in the fast lane
|
| Rap shit is secondary nigga, keep on baggin' 'cain
|
| I’m on one, 'bout to shut this muhfucka down
|
| Cincinnati red fitted cap be my new crown
|
| Jerz to Compton, that Black Wall takeover
|
| Private jets all day, man fuck a layover
|
| Casualties of war!
|
| The epic of a general
|
| True story of a life so critical
|
| That we strive for, gauges good strong (?)
|
| Even when you had to stand alone
|
| Stand alone
|
| We stand alone
|
| We stand alone
|
| Casualties of war!
|
| Give me the block, I’m gon' grind
|
| Crackheads, the whole nine
|
| When I hop out, niggas lock doors and close blinds
|
| That’s prolly why they get no shine
|
| These rap niggas ain’t got no balls, I let 'em hold mine
|
| My cojones be together like the Jonas
|
| And I ride with eses like a twelve pack of Coronas nigga
|
| One blood with one slug in the trey eight
|
| Cock it back, put it on my temple with a straight face
|
| Aim and pull the trigger, Game it don’t matter nigga
|
| Jewish lawyers eat up the case for the right figure
|
| Who be them block boys? |
| Heavy with them chrome toys
|
| MACs in the Louis stacks, muzzles for the loud noise
|
| I’m a shooting star, realest out thus far
|
| Stay throwing shots back like an alkie at the bar
|
| And for your information, I’m always paper chasin'
|
| Lifestyle of Jerzey Devil, hands down breathtakin'
|
| Casualties of war!
|
| The epic of a general
|
| True story of a life so critical
|
| That we strive for, gauges good strong (?)
|
| Even when you had to stand alone
|
| Stand alone
|
| We stand alone
|
| We stand alone
|
| Casualties of war! |