Eightball And Mjg Runnin Out Of Bud Lyrics

Runnin Out Of Bud Lyrics

[Verse 1 - MJG]

Break it down, straight outta the tip

Flockin to the
'rillo

Ain't no secret

Every month, I'ma smoke a pillow

(M-J!)
G, I keeps it real potent

Green-sticky that'll keep a buffalo chokin

Come and go with me, creep off in my Chevy thang

Doin 45, twistin
somethin steady mayn

Headed to my low-key, safe-and-sound house

Call up the fellas, hit the spot, and pull a pound out

I used to have a
secret spot up in my Range Rover

Where I kept me somethin rolled, I'ma
chain smoker

No discrimination my nigga, if you broke

But they
still ain't attributed to good smoke

B.Y.O.B, bring ya own bud

Contribute to the pot, or do ya own drugs

But then I looked around and
noticed all the folks was gone

I shoulda known that they would leave when
all the smoke was gone



[Hook - singing]

Man, my weed is
smoked up

Man, my weed is smoked up

Man, my weed is smoked up

Man, my weed is smoked up

There ain't nobody left around

Nobody
left around

Nobody left around

Nobody left around

Nobody left
around

And I'm runnin outta bud

I'm runnin outta bud

I'm
runnin outta bud

I'm runnin outta bud

I'm runnin outta bud

I
gotta go to the corner sto'

Go to the corner sto'

Go to the corner
sto'

Go to the corner sto'



[Verse 2 - Eightball]

Keep
a fat bag, boys know I got that choker

Part-time rap nigga, full-time
weed smoker

Wake up, before I wash the crust up out my eyes

I'm
splittin a cigarillo, fiendin for my morning high

Break that sticky down,
roll it up, let it dry

Strike my lighter, put it to the tip, then I

Inhale, and let the smoke smoke fill up in my lungs

Hold it for a
second, blow it out and get numb

A drug-addict, I'm a junkie for that
Marijuana

No mid-grade, or no regular, just straight chronic

At
least four-hundred, for a zip, if I'ma touch it

See I'ma smoke it if I
like it, I ain't got no budget

Now mama with me, wanna hit, better take
it slow

Seen it befo', I'ma be gettin this bitch up off the flo'

Burn it all til' the whole bag empty

Now err'body gone, ain't nobody
here but me



[Hook]



[Verse 3 - Killer Mike]

Yeah
I smoke, and I drank

Yeah I pop, and I lean

Might see me on M.L.
King

Burnin rubber, burnin green

Might see me, envisions with some
pretty bitches, ballin g

Might see me, on T.V., live on stage with Ball
and G

Ridin heavy in the Chevy, cruisin with a pound of purp'

This
here is my personal nigga

This here is not for work

Years ago, I
was broke

Couldn't smoke it, couldn't ride

Now I smoke that foreign
weed

Now I push them foreign rides

Flyin in that G-4

Goin to
do them foreign shows

Givin 'em my foreign clothes

Fuckin with them
foreign hoes

Catch ya man at Amsterdam

Burnin grams of that kush

Purple Haze and Indica

Now I'm drinkin vinegar

Scared as hell my
P.O. gon' pull me and make me piss in cups

But fuck the man, I'm the
man

Right now I'm in Amsterdam

Spendin cash, burnin hash

High
like a sattelite

I might get locked up tomorrow

But bitch, I'm
gettin high tonight



[Hook]



[Outro]

I wanna get
high

I'm gonna get high

I wanna get high

I'm gonna get
high

I wanna get high

I'm gonna get high