[Chorus]

(1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8)

Y'all been fronting

Without a ounce of thugging

You go against me? You too can count for nothing

[Verse 1]

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

BLAOW! Like (1-2) guns swoop

In the same booth the federales tryna run through

Like, like (3-4) we raw

Me and Vish' trade like a triple beam seesaw

I'm a veteran, the Mac-11 the pump

You could name whoever you want

Wayne, Ye, Jay (Haha, I'm just playing with y'all)

I keep the (4-5) on my hip

You take me serious then I might trip

About (7-8) niggas and die

Feeling some type of way, I figure it's pride

I'm the right-on truth

And that's right, I'm even plotting on my own crew

Joey, Crooked, Or-tez, Slaughterhouse!

[Chorus]

(1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8)

Y'all been fronting

Without a ounce of thugging

You go against me? You too can count for nothing

Like (1, 2) like (3) like

You (2) can count for nothing

[Verse 2]

I'm what choice is to option

Royce to hip hop is what Mike Buffer's voice to boxing

Yes, it's a couple dope dealers somewhere

That got rich living the shit that I spit (Me!)

I don't re-enact nigga, I illuminate

I know every point what I account like a Q&A

It ain't a arm when it's tucked in my box

It's Lindsay Lohan, niggas call me Fire Crotch

I'm seeing 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 glowing like Taimak

And y'all crying like babies over the net

I should call you niggas Lady Gaga

Or 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'mma leave the sun behind, I'm tryna repeat

Don't try to ban the drummer

He's an animal and you can be a random number, uh

[Chorus]

(1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8)

Y'all been fronting

Without a ounce of thugging

You go against me? You too can count for nothing

Like (1, 2) like (3) like

You (2) can count for nothing

[Verse 3]

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

Call you "Stan"

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 tryna shake it like a Polaroid

They said I couldn't do it twice, call me Soulja Boy

[Chorus]

(1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8)

Y'all been fronting

Without a ounce of thugging

You go against me? You too can count for nothing

Like (1, 2) like (3) like

You (2) can count for nothing