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 niggas 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 motherfucker 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 nigga's on and he's gotten a ball of dough I kick in the nigga's door I slap the nigga in the jaw wit my nickel played .44 And word up ya'll shoulda saw The way this nigga hit the floor when the Freaky got raw Some bitch 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 nigga Lu He said, "Taliq, whats up my man?" I got this nigga 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 bitch down the stairs I come back up for the session Money still tied the fuck up confessin I blow some smoke into his eyes, here nigga 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 motherfuckin world I got problems) It's 3 o'clock in the mornin Shit is on motherfucker shit is on Yeah yeah, I gotta get this nigga Shawn I'm drivin in a stolen car wit no motherfuckin 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 shit 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 nigga named Shawn Shit is on word is bond money is gone He's wit his bitch in bed (ah ah) I pulled out my .44, but I don't put it to his head Cause this shit 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
Read the complete lyrics to "1, 2, 3" by Lost Boyz from the album "Legal Drug Money" in 1996. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rap.
"1, 2, 3" is performed by Lost Boyz. from the album "Legal Drug Money" in 1996 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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"1, 2, 3" is credited to Lost Boyz. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"1, 2, 3" appears on "Legal Drug Money" in 1996.
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