Tuesday Thru Sunday - Howdy (Tuesday) lyrics

[Intro: Matt Meyer Lansky] Oh so you just thought we was up here just shopping and bullsh**ting? Tuesday Thru Sunday, OBP [Verse 1: Matt Meyer Lansky] I got bodies in my whip Mommies on my dick I'm smiling when you spot me servin' by you on the strip You can't define me by my problems I don't do d** I'm just always around them I'm playing I brought them I'm never without them I let my b**h hold em' it's not my problem sh**, what you think this is man? I don't know Don't ever catch me in no photo without no wardrobe unless them Polo And that's basic in the least bit, never tell a b**h no secret Keep that sh** to myself cause they take it all as a sign of weakness [Verse 2: Robb Bank$] But yo I got a black girl, and her hair look Indian Right, n***a pitch black but my dashboard lighting up our date night n***a Reserve store bu*ton down, p**y no polo Love my style now later she want a photo Savage life hoes, gold mouth and I got that fire And I f** her limbs off, so a**embly's required She give me that X-O, cup of X oh man she love this Text a X-O to the one I'm f**in' with, cause her mouth is sh** Hug kiss lil b**h [Hook] Yeah this my cup, that's my dro This my sip I cut that ho, bu*ton that O Stunt like this, I'm bout that life b**h You ain't bout sh** You getting it in on the strip from another n***a [Verse 3: Robb Bank$] See, see I'm one trill n***a Mishka f** that Hilfiger No thong under them leggings so now your girl got my attention I Allen Iverson your questions, and that Vapex as my breathmints And I'm Paul Pierce to that false sh**, so for now my answer's pending Black pearl in my gauges, Jack Sparrow when I k** this sh** At my Ex spot, put my gold in her treasure chest I cop a bottle, f** a model Keep the substances controlled Got em' in my crib f**ing up the decor in my home [Verse 4: Matt Meyer Lansky] Yeah that's what's up Cause this my sh** We get it on, Grey Poupon Straight bomb, White Widow from the ghetto in the middle of a palm leaf We got bonged out, cause this my crib Were Desmond hit the bong When you chiefing straight resin and you know that you'll be feeling like a zombie Bow to my presence I'll bring that f**ing mojo to your crib like I was Santa Clause And we still don't got no manager Catch me scheming on a camel toe Piff and me, I puff a bleez And then I be thinking up this sh**, like it took no energy Then I say "f** my enemies" [Hook] Now this my cup, and this my b**h Now that's your b**h, and I'mma take that sh** And that's my broad, you spending all that grip I'm just saying, get your mother f**ing money up [Verse 5: Matt Meyer Lansky] This is for the kids I bought bottles in the club They only shake my hand when they know I'm pourin' up The girls just want to f** and they just want to get f**ed up They know we going stupid and they boyfriend is useless [Verse 6: Robb Bank$] Yeah, this is for the kids I bought bottles in the club They only shake my hand when they know I'm pourin' up And they girls want to f** and they just want to get f**ed up Cause our presence going stupid, and they boyfriend is useless Little b**h