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count for nothing - royce da 5'9'' 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 with ’em…
i keep the {“four-five”} on my hip
you take me serious then i might trip
about {“seven-eight”} n-gg-z 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 sh-t that i spit (me!)
i don’t re-enact n-gg-, 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, n-gg-z 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 n-gg-z lady gaga
i call, “you and em need to get together
y’all need each other nickel shady blah blah! ”
if i die i’m a leave heat
i’m a 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 b-tch -ss 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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