Runnin Out Of Bud Lyrics - Ridin High - Eightball & Mjg

[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