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Artist: Apocalipps
Album:  Radio Takeover, Pt. 1
Song:   New York Killaz
Typed by: Cno Evil

Now let me take ya'll to the dark side of things, what they didn't tell ya
New York niggas kill, forensics'll smell ya
We got our line-ups, some Ruthless street sweepers
And the press labelled these niggas the grym reapers
So light a blunt, cuz this shit is for realer
And I'mma tell you why New York is the home of the most killas
From murder one, kidnapping to manslaughter
I'mma name these muthafuckas in alphabetical order
Alpo, first up at bat, Harlem assassin
Fancy cars and flashing, known for getting cash and
He saved his ass when he talked to the cops and
But that's after he got the murder rate in DC popping
Born Black Just from Queens, Ben from Brooklyn
Don't get bodied over blood, this shit is cooking
You corns get caught at the corriner, baby
Since we on C's, check this shit, it's crazy
Colin Ferg got on the train with just a couple of quarters
A nine, a newspaper, and a bottle of water
Walking through the carts, plushing off his pound and his quarter
He killed alot of people but he played himself as his lawyer
Everybody gotta die, that's how my dogs on it
I watched America's Most Wanted with Dusty, and he was on it
Nineteen eighty seven, turn your pages
I'mma take ya'll to the Bronx, never forget Larry Davis
He mad a bad choice dealing with Satan
And the pigs came for his soul and tried to replace him
Now, they supplied him with the clips and the uzis
But was suprised when they bust them shits and made him a movie
Everybody wanna equal peace, and every killa wanna eat
Since we on E, I'mma keep it on the East
F it, it's the home of John Gotti
In the Staten Island Shore, they kept finding them bodies
Heads popped off from the gauges and shotties
But it's nothing, murder in New York, it's a hobby
We talk about killas, let's not be greedy
Here to serve and disect you is the NYPD
Fuck what you think, they tempers is short
Fuck the law, Dialo never made it to court
Let's go...

[Chorus: Apocalipps]
What you forgot? New York's the home of the killas
Now cop back them tools and make them niggas feel ya
Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda
Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda
Double homicide, they keep the fear in the city
And want us born everyday so the cops stay busy
Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda
Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda

Ok, put a muzzle on them pistols, please
You say sex, money, murder, think of Pistol Pete
Preacher's a beast, the question revolves
Some many brutal manslaughters, and they case is unsolved
All eyes on Sammy the Bull, the mobs lethal weapon
He follows orders, take your life in a second
He turned state, some still can't believe it
But the fact is, catching them bodies is undefeated
And lord knows we can't forget the Son of Sam
With the .44, turn all his victims to spice ham
And Tuff is wild, put the hole in ya nigga
And last but not least we have the Zodiac Killer
Now he would act you, what's your name, what's your sign
Then soon as you respond, he would hit you with the nine
So many killas, I can't name 'em all
It should be blood dripping from your speaker, change the song