1, 2, 3

Lost Boyz

One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems (problems)
One, two (you got problems, she's got problems)
Three thousand problems (got problems)
One, two, 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
Beat my man to the ground
I gotta shut 'em down
They roll 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 (ayo)
Surprise motherfucker
It's a hit from the south side (counting down it's the)

One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, 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 home
And he's countin' up all the dough
I kick in the nigga's door
I slap the nigga in the jaw
With my nickel-plated .44
And word up y'all shit is soft
The way this nigga hit the floor
When the Freaky got raw
Some bitch tried to burst but I shot her in the back (back)
Ayo Money where your stash at?
He took me back inside this room
Beside the safe full a G's he had mad bags of boom

One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems

I got 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 gun
Ay word up he got a mail press
Ayo Money what's this address?
1245 Boulevard quicksand (one, two)
And and tell my man to drive the 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 yo come in through the side door

One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems

They get robbed they on a double
Money baggin' and repeatin' that he don't want trouble
I told Lou to move the chairs
Ayo Cheeks, help me take this damn bitch down the stairs
I come back up for the session
Money still tried to fuck up, confessin'
I blow some smoke into his eyes
Here nigga, take two more puff before you die (ayo)
I stood up, about-faced him (yo check this out)
Ayo Lost Boyz waste him
Ayo Queens Mob waste him
Ayo Southside waste him

One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems
One, two, three thousand problems

It's three o'clock in the mornin'
Shit is on motherfuckers shit is on (yeah yeah)
I gotta get this nigga Shawn
I'm drivin' in a stolen car
With no motherfuckin' lights on
I heard Shawn got crazy ends
But before I do this hits
I go and pick up my best friends
A forty ounce to let the feels right
I got this hit up on Hillside
Understand now he's a goner
I roll all my windows down
Pull my shit on the corner
But I'm still being 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 with his bitch in bed (ah ah)
I pull out my .44, but I don't put it to his head
'Cause this shit here's too easy (even though)
Even though he can go in one squeeze G
It's it's it's crazy, mystery
Lb's to be the one to solve one
Two, three, three thousand problems

One, two, three thousand problems (it's the, ayo, we got)
Ayo word to my mother
It's all about keeping it real on the streets, you understand?
You think where the fuck I'm coming from
Ayo, it's all about the game, see?
Wine, dine, the whole 9
Champagne, Cocaine, yeah it rings the whole sha-bang
Ayo, ayo, Lost Boyz, we out guys, ch'yeah