[Lyric] Howdy Tuesday (Tuesday Thru Sunday)

[Intro: Matt Meyer Lansky]
Oh so you just thought we was up here just shopping and bullshitting?
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 drugs I'm just always around them
I'm playing I brought them I'm never without them
I let my bitch hold em' it's not my problem
Shit, 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 bitch no secret
Keep that shit 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, nigga pitch black but my dashboard lighting up our date night nigga
Reserve store button down, pussy no polo
Love my style now later she want a photo
Savage life hoes, gold mouth and I got that fire
And I fuck her limbs off, so assembly'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 fuckin' with, cause her mouth is shit
Hug kiss lil bitch
[Hook]
Yeah this my cup, that's my dro
This my sip
I cut that ho, button that O
Stunt like this, I'm bout that life bitch
You ain't bout shit
You getting it in on the strip from another nigga

[Verse 3: Robb Bank$]
See, see I'm one trill nigga
Mishka fuck 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 shit, so for now my answer's pending
Black pearl in my gauges, Jack Sparrow when I kill this shit
At my Ex spot, put my gold in her treasure chest
I cop a bottle, fuck a model
Keep the substances controlled
Got em' in my crib fucking up the decor in my home

[Verse 4: Matt Meyer Lansky]
Yeah that's what's up
Cause this my shit
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 fucking 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 shit, like it took no energy
Then I say "fuck my enemies"
[Hook]
Now this my cup, and this my bitch
Now that's your bitch, and I'mma take that shit
And that's my broad, you spending all that grip
I'm just saying, get your mother fucking 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 fuck and they just want to get fucked 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 fuck and they just want to get fucked up
Cause our presence going stupid, and they boyfriend is useless
Little bitch