Lyrics Bud Bottles & Bullets - Fatha Ferg

(High Volume)

Bud, bottles & Bullets
We smoking loud to the fullest
Extended clip, finger itch, don't make me pull it

Flesh wound, hospital room, that's your only warning
Them shots steady pouring, my niggas shooters, scoring

Next time bottles, candle light & family mourning
Raiders black, get smack, wit the heat like a Vegas morning

Hole in ya chest, hard ta digest got yo spirit exposing
Close range, DNA on me like an explosion

Yo girl in her emotions
I'm in her motion
Dick is poisonous, but she love swallowing my potion

Drowning in my love, the Fergific ocean
Lost ya life & wife damn double demotion

Niggas actin tough, give them a nominee
They never win, against a real nigga like me

Smoke ya long range, my swisher sweet
Roll him in the backwood, get smoked game leaf's

My nigga Taqee, on the side of me
Bottle in 1 hand the another 1 ready to squeeze

Bitches playin hard to get, we don't chase Skeez's
Bullets chase niggas you ain't out running these

Me & my niggas got guns that hold 22 shots
We the only motherfuckers who got them on the block

That's 15 niggas with 22 in the clip
Ready to shoot the 1st thing moving with an extra 1 on the hip

330 bullets flying at yo ass
You better run, duck & cover before they clap yo ass

When we run out we re-up with the extra clip
Dumping at you knowing we going to buss yo shit

660 bullets & the whole crew got hit
He ain't living but he took more bullets than 50 cent

Lord, willing on the grind pushing with these clips
Hell hath no fury, till the casket drops, shit

Niggas actin tough, give them a nominee
They never win, against a real nigga like me

Smoke ya long range, my swisher sweet
Roll him in the backwood, get smoked game leaf's

My nigga Taqee, on the side of me
Bottle in 1 hand the another 1 ready to squeeze

Bitches playin hard to get, we don't chase Skeez's
Bullets chase niggas you ain't out running these