1, 2, 3 – Lost Boyz
[Chorus x4]:
1…2…3..thousand problems
(Problems, who’s got problems
She’s got problems, got problems
Three thousand problems, got problems)
Freaky Tah:
It’s a cool summer night
My fo’ fo’s on my waist gotta half a stick of dynamite
Got some beef with some n_ggas 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_cker, it’s a handful of dynamite
[Chorus]
(I got…problems, three thousand problems)
Freaky Tah:
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_gga’s on and he’s countin’ up all the dough
I kick in the n_gga’s door
I sat the n_gga in the door with my nickel plated fo’ fo’
And word up that sh_t is soft
The way this n_gga hit the floor when the Freaky got raw
Some b_tch tried to burst but I shot her in the back (back)
Ay yo, Money where your stash at?
He took me back inside to this room
Beside the safe full of G’s he had mad bags of BOOM
[Chorus]
(Problems, I I got problems)
Freaky Tah:
A lot to do
I called up the Underground, let me speak to that n_gga Lou
He said, “Taliq, what’s up my man?”
I got this n_gga locked down with my joing to his head
And word up he got a mail press
Ay yo, Money what’s this address?
1-2-45 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
And park the van on the corner and you’re comin’ through the side door
[Chorus]
(I got problems, we got problems)
Freaky Tah:
They arrived on the double
Money beggin’ and repeatin’ that he don’t want trouble
I told Raul to move the chairs
Ay yo Cheeks, help me take this damn b_tch down the stairs
I come back up for the session
Money still tied the f_ck up confession
I blow some smoke into his eyes, here n_gga
Take two more puff before you die
Yo, I stood up, about-faced him
Ay yo Lost Boyz waste him
Ay yo Queens boys waste him, ay yo Southside waste him
[Chorus]
(Who got problems, Pretty Lou and the whole f_ckin’ world, I got problems)
Sh_t is on motherf_cker, sh_t is on (yeah, yeah)
I gott get this n_gga Shawn
I’m drivin’ in a stolen car with no motherf_ckin’ 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 to see the boy, hillside
Understand now he’s in court
I roll all my windows down pull my sh_t 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 with this n_gga named Shawn
Sh_t is on word is bond money is gone
He’s with his b_tch in bed
I pull out my fo’ fo’ and I don’t wanna do his head
Cause this sh_t is too easy (even though)
Even though he can go in one squeeze G,
It’s it’s it’s crazy Mr. B’s, LB’s, to be the one it’s all good 2, 3, 3, thousand problems
[Chorus]
