Lyrics The Count - Masta Ace

Down and out, New York City
Ain't nowhere to be, where can you go?
When you're down and out in New York City
Said I'm never never never gonna get that way again
No

(One, two, three, four, five)
(Six, seven, eight, nine, ten)

God damn that's a lot of cash, yo

(One, two, three, four, five)

I ain't seen that much money in my life

(Yeah, I know)

Crazy

(One, two, three, four, five)

Ayo, how they not gonna' have HBO in this
Bullshit ass hotel, for real yo

(I don't know)

C'mon man

(One, two, three, four, five)
(Six, seven, eight)

Ayo I heard if you fold up a 20 dollar bill, right?
You can see the World Trade Center on fire and shit

(Jesus Christ, would you shut the fuck up?)
(You're gonna' make me lose count again)

My bad, just shooting the shit

(Six, seven)
(Here)

What's this for?

(That's just for letting me go on tour with you)
(Because we just developed this nice little partnership)
(And I gotta' say it was a good summer for me)

(What, you order room service?)

Hell naw', room service?
This is Motel 6 man, c'mon

(Let me see, Uh who is it?)

(Hotel maintenance, I've come to fix the toilet)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, just a minute)
(Let me put something on)
(Get that bag over there)
(That bag, don't forget that bag right there)
(Fuck)

Now I know you're probably wondering
What I was doing in that hotel room with Fats Belvedere
Sorrounded by bags of cash and credit cards
And counterfeit cashier's checks
I can't front, I'm asking myself that same shit right now
Well it all started a few months earlier
It was the first day of summer
In the borough of Brooklyn