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 niggaz 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   Suprise motherfucker its 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 slapped the nigga in the jaw with my nickel-plated 4-4   And word up y'all 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   Back! 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 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 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   And 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 get robbed they wanna go   Money beggin' and repeatin' that he don't 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)      It's 3 o'clock in the morn   Shit is on motherfuckers shit is on   Yeah yeah, I gotta get this nigga Shawn   I'm 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 he's in court   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 pull out my .44, and I don't wanna do 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