Count For Nothing Lyrics - Street Hop - Royce Da 5'9

{"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 

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! 

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{"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 

(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!) 

Photos 

(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