Howdy (Tuesday) lyrics

[Intro: Matt Meyer Lansky]
Oh so you just thought we was up here just shopping and bullsh*tting?
Tuesday Thru Sunday, OBP

[Verse 1: Matt Meyer Lansky]
I got bodies in my whip
Mommies on my di*k
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 b*tch hold em' it's not my problem
sh*t, 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*tch no secret
Keep that sh*t 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*gga pitch black but my dashboard lighting up our date night n*gga
Reserve store button down, pus*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*ck 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 f*ckin' with, cause her mouth is sh*t
Hug kiss lil b*tch
[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 b*tch
You ain't bout sh*t
You getting it in on the strip from another n*gga

[Verse 3: Robb Bank$]
See, see I'm one trill n*gga
Mishka f*ck 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*t, so for now my answer's pending
Black pearl in my gauges, Jack Sparrow when I kill this sh*t
At my Ex spot, put my gold in her treasure chest
I cop a bottle, f*ck a model
Keep the substances controlled
Got em' in my crib f*cking up the decor in my home

[Verse 4: Matt Meyer Lansky]
Yeah that's what's up
Cause this my sh*t
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*cking 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*t, like it took no energy
Then I say "f*ck my enemies"
[Hook]
Now this my cup, and this my b*tch
Now that's your b*tch, and I'mma take that sh*t
And that's my broad, you spending all that grip
I'm just saying, get your mother f*cking 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*ck and they just want to get f*cked 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*ck and they just want to get f*cked up
Cause our presence going stupid, and they boyfriend is useless
Little b*tch