Pow Pow

KC PD you got a buster workin' for ya
He be yappin' to Hooters employees and alertin' employers
Not to hang out with Tecca Nina cause some investigation
With with a yellow Hummer I got with drugs so I'm searchin' for ya
Shut up and eat your Hooters chicken before I bomb you
Don't be hatin' on me the bitches to get them on you
I ain't got no yellow Hummer homie that's non true
King of KC rappers just know that this Don Wu keep the

[Chorus]
(?) Pow-pow (?) Pow-pow (?) Pow-pow
(If theres drama niggas cock it then pop it (?) it's the)
(?) Pow-pow (?) Pow-pow (?) Pow-pow
Kutt Calhoun, mob these motherfuckers

Killer cities, killer centerfolds and gangs and niggas snitchin'
On the block you lose your life over the thangs that niggas grippin'
In the kitchen that discovery will clear a niggas vision
When he sittin' in the pen readin' 'bout everything he did
And to the point where niggas never get to make it to preliminary
Hearings cause of loyalty thats broken in the syndicate
Nowadays you shoot either you kill or rep a medikit
Insurgents don't be caring bout a past rep a manuscript
Thats why i keep a Russian in possession on my person
My Kalashinkov will speak 'til our hood beat is talkin' foreign
Your beefin' on our warrant, got no time to have my family
Comin' to you funeral, presume you'll just handle me
And this is how it is, when you livin' in the Mid, killer city nickname
Kansas City killer kid, so don't get it confused
Cause we get it how we spit it all raw and uncut battle
Width for any with it, when we trip and it's

[Chorus]
(?) Pow-pow (?) Pow-pow (?) Pow-pow
(If theres drama niggas cock it then pop it (?) it's the)
(?) Pow-pow (?) Pow-pow (?) Pow-pow
(Ain't from around here know you about it to slide out)
Tay Diggs, let 'em have it

Yeah we runnin' the crime rate
Catch me on the E-way doin' a pill with the gun spray
Y'all fucks with Tech N9ne and claps shit to the gun pray
It's back to the checks more baggies and more K
We hella old niggas hittin' mall (?) from mall way
I'm on plate, I'm rappin' for a reason
Clappin' for no reason I just love the desert eagles
And I'm fuckin' with the mags i just love to plug my peoples
These suckers ain't my evil, we live life fast
And they try to tell me stop, but all we know is gas
No brakes so catch me on the crip side
Right up on the street, likes cannon on my hip side
I'm G maggin' and my young life's maney
Do whatever for the dough and we smokin' on grates
Reload that thing and I'll make y'all a shake
For the mob and do the job and I fucks to survive, nigga

[Chorus]

(Riv Locc, get 'em)

[Chorus]

(Mon. E.G., kill this player hatin' niggas)

Yes, Sir!

[Chorus]