Lost Boyz - 1, 2, 3 lyrics

1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problems 1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problems (problems, who's got problems She's got problems, got problems Three thousand problems, got problems) It's a cool summer night My .44's on my waist gotta half a stick of dynamite Got some beef wit some n***as across town Keep my man to the ground I gotta shut it down, they pull up on my block I'm in my little brown hooptie So they guess I want the white rock They walk close towards my ride Surprise motherf**er it's a hit from the South side 1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problem (I got.. problems, three thousand problems) I put two to his head I jumped on the southern state then I'm rushin out to Hempstead One down and one to go I heard the next n***a's on and he's gotten a ball of dough I kick in the n***a's door I slap the n***a in the jaw wit my nickel played .44 And word up ya'll shoulda saw The way this n***a hit the floor when the Freaky got raw Some b**h tried to burst but I shot her in the back BAH! Aiyyo Money where your stash at? He took me back inside to this room Beside the safe full a G's he had mad bags of boom 1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problems (Problems, I I got problems) A lot to do I call up the underground let me speak to that n***a Lu He said, "Taliq, whats up my man?" I got this n***a locked down wit my joint to his gut And word up he got an mail press Aiyyo Money what's this address? 1245 Boulevard Queens, and and tell my man they try to caravan Understand I'm on a mission And just be nice to pack some extra ammunition And get some Phillies from the store Yo park the van on the corner and you're comin through the side door 1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problems (I got problems, we got problems) They arrived here on the double Money beggin on repeat yo he don't want trouble, I told Lou to move the chairs Aiyyo Cheeks, help me take this dead b**h down the stairs I come back up for the session Money still tied the f** up confessin I blow some smoke into his eyes, here n***a Take two more puffs before you die Yo, I stood up, about-faced him And yo Lost Boyz waste him (BAH BAH) And yo Queens waste him (BAH BAH), and yo Southside waste him (BAH BAH) 1..2..3.. thousand problems (Who got problems Pretty Lou and the whole motherf**in world I got problems) It's 3 o'clock in the mornin sh** is on motherf**er sh** is on Yeah yeah, I gotta get this n***a Shawn I'm drivin in a stolen car wit no motherf**in lights on I heard Shawn got crazy ends But before I do this thing I go and pick up my best friends A forty ounce and lead feels right I got this hit up on Hillside (Hillside) Understand now he's a gonner I roll all my windows down pull my sh** on the corner But I still bein' sneaky (What's your name?) Cause I'm freaky Taliq, I'm freaky Taliq But right now I got beef wit this n***a named Shawn sh** is on word is bond money is gone He's wit his b**h in bed (ah ah) I pulled out my .44, but I don't put it to his head Cause this sh** is too easy (even though) Even though he can go in one squeeze G, it's it's it's crazy Mr.B's L-B's, a people.. 1.. 2.. 3.. 3.. thousand problems 1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problems