Luyện nghe bài hát Vultures

You wait for death to happen, you looked up bloody
you con the elderly feeblos up out they pension
you kick 'em when down, you tell 'em god is coming
you work the lonely souls, 800 runnin'
You sell what you reposes, you clean 'em out nests
you for them to try to rest and yank it out they chest
You sell them medicine you them think they need
you come around the flowers but a dirty weed.

Like serpents and snakes, they rattle bite
whatever it they get what they like
always stay fake and go where they
your money they make it and in the night
and no mistake, they do got a heart
blacker than coal and hard as a rock
dont quiver or when they take a part
and break it apart who swim the sharks.

(chorus)
Pick at the eyes, at the brains
because youre sick and deranged.
Cause a vulture a wicked vulture!
Pick at the heart pick at the
Pick 'em and drag 'em down your hole
you's a vulture a wicked vulture!

You cut the fingers off if theres a ring on 'em
even if come in cursed, you still want 'em
You promised big things is for next year
but then you disappear as soon as the clear
you lash out at the and tell 'em to give you more
Sell off for the church, sleep on the floor
you point the necks out to all the vampires
but in the dark you might get bit by spiders.

Lizards and bugs, and mosquitoes,
with drugs and dirty ass needles,
alley way cats, and rats,
killers gats attack you with bats
they scums, bums as anything comes and
they mix with tons of hoes, dirty all of those
I suppose wicked is the way that they chose.

(chorus)

(Skit)
Go away Doc/ Leave him alone/ When will he die?/ I'll be at home/ Who gets his car?/ Who gets the crib?/ Those are his pills?/ I'm poppin' the lid/ I give him a week/ What do I get?/ Put me in his will/ He's moving again/ Sign it like him/ Cut off that beep/ There go his morphine/ shit is sweet/ Give me a hit!/ The preacher called/ He's tryin' to get paid/ Who's feeding his dog?/ Fuck that dog!/ It's beepin again!/ Whoa, that morphine's kickin' in/ What about his money?/ He wants the church to have it/ How long til he dies?/ Let's check his wallet/ Lets pull the plug/ Do you think he can hear?/ He's fuckin' dyin'/ He doesn't care/

serpents and snakes, they rattle they bite
whatever it takes get what they like
and gonna hide, and they gonna run
but they gonna suffer some fun
and make no mistake they do got a
it's blacker than coal and hard as a
they visit the carnival clowns
and gonna parish We promise you now.

(chorus X2)