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Royce Da 5'9

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Count For Nothing

by Royce Da 5'9

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Lyrics: [Intro: Royce] {"One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight"} Y'all been frontin Without a ounce of thuggin You go against me, you too can count for nothin [Royce Da 5'9"] I'm the king of the backpackers This T-bone contact to any wack rapper It's biometric how I wet ya My dialect's an entire weapon, it's set to just fire reckless BLAP! Like {"one-two"} guns swoop In the same booth the federales tryin to run through Like, like {"three-four"} we raw Me and Vishis tradin like a triple beam seesaw I'm a veteran, the mac-11 the pump You could name whoever you want Wayne... Yay... Jay Hahaha, I'm just playin wit 'em... I keep the {"four-five"} on my hip You take me serious then I might trip About {"seven-eight"} niggaz and die Feelin some type of way I figure it's pride I'm the right-on truth And that's right, I'm even plottin on my own crew Joey... Crooked... Ortiz Slaughterhouse! [Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"] {"One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight"} Y'all been frontin (uh-huh) Without a ounce of thuggin You go against me, you too can count for nothin Like {"One, two"} like {"three"} like Ha ha, you {"two"} can - count for nothin [Royce Da 5'9"] (Woo!) I'm what choice is to option Royce to hip-hop is what, Mike Buffer's voice to boxing (Let's get ready to rumbllllle!) Yes, it's a couple dope dealers somewhere that got rich livin the shit that I spit (me!) I don't re-enact nigga, I illuminate I know every point what I count like a Q&A It ain't a arm when it's tucked in my box Since it's Lindsay Lohan, niggaz call me Fire Crotch I'm seein clear like a MyBot I drop my coupe, black shoes, black Noob Saibot I spit fire like Izod, why not Cause sho' 'nuff I'm glowin like Thai mock And y'all cryin like babies over the net I should call you niggaz Lady Gaga I call, "You and Em need to get together Y'all need each other Nickel Shady blah blah!" If I die I'ma leave heat I'ma leave the sun behind, I'm tryin to repeat Don't try to ban the drummer He's an (Animal) and you can be a random number, uh (ohh!) [Chorus] [Royce Da 5'9"] (Ahh) I put the gun to lames Eeny-miny Motown, play the numbers game Five shots on my block is like for once I see like my pops is Cyclops With both eyes I see you got no sides Bring it to your Chippendale neck with the bowties ... All you stand Grab a bitch ass like "Aye," call me OJ Da Juiceman ... I get away with murder That Johnny Rocket in my pocket with my favorite burger I'm tryin to shake it like a Polaroid They said I couldn't do it twice, call me Soulja Boy I said [Chorus]
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