Luyện nghe bài hát Vultures

You wait for death to happen, you looked up wrecks
you con the elderly up out they pension checks
you kick 'em theyre down, you tell 'em god is coming
you work the souls, 800 numbers runnin'
You sell you reposes, you clean 'em out their nests
you wait for them to try to and yank it out they chest
You sell medicine you make them think they need
you come the flowers but you's a dirty weed.

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

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

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

Lizards and bugs, and mosquitoes,
with drugs and dirty ass needles,
alley way cats, and rats,
with gats attack you with bats
they scums, bums as anything comes and
they mix with tons of hoes, like all of those
I cause 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 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/ That 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/

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

(chorus X2)