Royce Da 5'9"

Royce Da 5'9" - Count For Nothing lyrics

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[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]

Thanks to Adrina for these lyrics

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

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