how - rowdy rebel lyrics
[intro]
shush gang
gs nina (ayy, who that right there?)
yo, i’m on ’em (ayy, ayy, watch that car)
brr, huh?
[chorus]
uh, before jewelry, it weren’t even a hot boy (huh?)
shoutout clint, i’ma scr*p my glock boys (grr)
reload the clip when he forced it on top boys (boom, boom)
how you a shooter but you never emptied the clip
ran down, and shot boys? (baow)
how you a third and one in a movie
but you ain’t move ’em like a cowboy? (huh?)
call him my shooter, gang right off the block
you know, sleepy and sheff, they some wild boys (ayy, free sheff)
hop out the bag, walk down, go shootin’ up crowds
that ain’t really my style, boy (that ain’t my style)
i put a switch on a stick, soon as it hit (grrt)
i’m makin’ that “get on the ground” noise (baow, baow, baow)
give me a reason to trip, empty the clip (baow, baow)
air one, that’s a fireball (baow, baow, baow)
[verse]
i ain’t goin’ out bad, just went pasta (n*gga, check it)
and free quado, free a*ron and rasha (you check it?)
my little drillies is really some shotters (huh?)
get in your feelings, them n*ggas will pop you (ooh)
i’m from the city where sh*t get gritty
but if you walk with your glizzy, that sh*t ain’t no problem (grrah)
i’m with the gang and we out here mobbin’ (baow)
nike text us and we out here joggin’ (bah, baow)
n*ggas say i be with all the steppers (the steppers)
nah, n*gga, i be with all the stompers (stomp, stomp)
i got shooters from the east and west (from the west)
shootin’ like they in an eastern conference (eastern conference)
i got a couple of shooters from brooklyn and queens and got a lil’ henny in yonkers
y’all lil’ n*ggas is tough, my n*ggas big dogs, ain’t no puffs, they monsters
i’m on nothin’ for classics with gangsters
treat that boy like a baby, we spank him
on the road to this shmoney, no patience
gotta get it, i’m itchin’, i’m anxious
pourin’ up henny for shiesty, i’m drinkin’
on my block, they like, “what’s the occasion?”
to stand on my block, that’s a standing ovation
to make it where i’m from, that sh*t is amazin’ (huh?)
[chorus]
uh, before jewelry, it weren’t even a hot boy (huh?)
shoutout clint, i’ma scr*p my glock boys (grr)
reload the clip when he forced it on top boys (boom, boom)
how you a shooter but you never emptied the clip
ran down, and shot boys? (baow)
how you a third and one in a movie
but you ain’t move ’em like a cowboy? (huh?)
call him my shooter, gang right off the block
you know, sleepy and sheff, they some wild boys (ayy, free sheff)
hop out the bag, walk down, go shootin’ up crowds
that ain’t really my style, boy (that ain’t my style)
i put a switch on a stick, soon as it hit (grrt)
i’m makin’ that “get on the ground” noise (baow, baow, baow)
give me a reason to trip, empty the clip (baow, baow)
air one, that’s a fireball (baow, baow, baow)
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