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lirik lagu on a tuesday – luh tyler

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[intro]
turnin’ up on a tuesday, yeah
turnin’ up on a tuesday, yeah
lil’ b*tch gone off the d’ussé (xair, let me get that motherf*cker)
yeah, n*gga, what?

[verse]
we turnin’ up on a tuesday
and i got your b*tch gone off the d’ussé
i’m gettin’ paper, give a f*ck about what you say
take a n*gga b*tch, i’m in her mouth just like some toothpaste
i’m in a new coupe with a new b*tch
i’m goin’ stupid, we finna be too rich
they like, “d*mn, luh tyler, i cannot, that n*gga too lit”
take a n*gga b*tch and dog her out, just call me scooby
know i need my pockets fat, rick ross sh*t
i’m a boss n*gga so i need a boss b*tch
throw my dawg the sack, he gon’ randy moss sh*t
i’m drugged out, n*ggas know i’m on that raw sh*t
i gotta put my n*gga on, i can’t get rich alone
i had to cut lil’ mama off, i left that b*tch alone
white boy, he got that gas, look like post malone (yeah, yeah)
n*gga got the city turnt, we finna get it on (yeah, yeah, n*gga)
like, what it do?
this a bad yellow b*tch, this ho look just like pikachu
i ain’t f*ckin’ with these hoes ’cause they love to pick and choose
i ain’t chasin’ after b*tches, n*gga chasin’ after blues
better go and get some paper, get the f*ck up off the couch
when i open up my mouth and talk, n*gga, bling*blaow
see a n*gga comin’ up, she wanna join the team now
n*gga chasin’ after paper, yeah, we gettin’ green now
smokin’ on exotic gas, i ain’t f*ckin’ with no lean
baby girl, you not my lover, feelin’ like i’m billie jean
these n*ggas undercover snake, man, them n*ggas really green
n*gga hatin’ on me, probably livin’ what this n*gga dream
gas in a vacuum seal, n*gga, you can’t even smell
high as f*ck with dark shades on, you can’t even tell
kiki blowin’ up my phone, i let it ring just like a bell
doin’ magic in the booth, you’d think a n*gga writin’ spells (yeah)
but i ain’t writin’ nothin’ down
say i’m snappin’ in this rap, these n*ggas like the way i sound
n*gga headed to the top, no, i ain’t tryna see the ground
i just cut my b*tch off, i sent her to the lost and found
n*ggas chasin’ after paper, know we tryna run it up
when that check hit, n*gga, we gon’ put a hundred up
gettin’ hot up in the booth, got a n*gga burnin’ up
when we step up in the club, these n*ggas know we turnin’ up
like i’m playin’ with a ouiji board, i pull up in a ghost
i’m with lil’ justin turnin’ up, i got your b*tch front row
n*gga, we don’t need no kiwi, finna kick the front door
n*gga, this exotic gas, we smokin’ on that runtz, bro
know i’m snappin’ on this rap, i don’t gotta do no braggin’
and i got them racks on me, got a n*gga pants saggin’
had to cut the lil’ ho off, she keep doin’ all that naggin’
n*gga say they f*ckin’ with ya but they really out here flaggin’
[outro]
(yeah, n*gga, i don’t do no braggin’)
(yeah, she keep doin’ too much naggin’)
(n*gga, man, these n*ggas really flaggin’)
(yeah, yeah, ski)

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