Lost Boyz - 1, 2, 3 lyrics

1, 2, 3 - Lost Boyz Song Lyrics




Below you can find the music and song lyrics for 1, 2, 3 by Lost Boyz, we hope you enjoy them as much as we enjoyed adding them!

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1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problems 1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problems (problems, whos got problems Shes got problems, got problems Three thousand problems, got problems) Its a cool summer night My .44s on my waist gotta half a stick of dynamite Got some beef wit some niggaz across town Keep my man to the ground I gotta shut it down, they pull up on my block Im in my little brown hooptie So they guess I want the white rock They walk close towards my ride Surprise motherfucker its a handful of 1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problem (I got.. problems, three thousand problems) I put two to his head I jumped on the southern state then Im rushin out to hempstead One down and one to go I heard the next niggas on and hes gotten a ball of dough I kick in the niggas door I sat the nigga in the door wit my nickel plated fo-fo And word up that 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! aiyyo money where your stash at? He took me back inside to this room Beside the safe full a gs he had mad bags of weeds 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 gun And word up he got an mail press Aiyyo money whats this address? 1245 boulevard queens, and and tell my man they try to caravan Understand Im 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 youre comin through the side door 1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problems (I got problems, we got problems) They get robbed they wanna go Aand we dont want trouble, I told lou to move the chairs Aiyyo cheeks, help me take this damn 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 puff before you die Yo, I stood up, about-faced him And yo lost boyz waste him And yo queens waste him, and yo southside waste him 1..2..3.. thousand problems (who got problems Pretty lou and the whole motherfuckin world I got problems) Its 3 oclock in the morn Shit is on motherfuckers shit is on Yeah yeah, I gotta get this nigga shawn Im drivin in a stolen car wit no motherfuckin plates 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 hes in court I roll all my windows down pull my shit on the corner But I still bein sneaky (whats your name? ) cause Im freaky taliq, Im freaky taliq But right now I got beef wit this nigga named shawn Shit is on word is bond money is gone Hes wit his bitch in bed (ah ah) I pull out my .44, and I dont wanna do his head Cause this shit is too easy (even though) Even though he can go in one squeeze g, its its its crazy Mr.bs l-bs, a people.. 1.. 2.. 3.. 3.. thousand problems 1.. 2.. 3.. thousand problems

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1, 2, 3 Lost Boyz Music Lyrics 2005