Luyện nghe bài hát Vultures

You for death to happen, you looked up bloody 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 rest and yank it out they
You sell medicine you make them think they need
you around the flowers but you's a dirty weed.

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

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

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

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

(chorus)

(Skit)
Go away Doc/ Leave him alone/ 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/ 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 they get what they like
and they gonna hide, and gonna run
but they suffer some carnival fun
and make no mistake they do got a
it's blacker than coal and as a rock
they visit the carnival clowns
and they parish We promise you now.

(chorus X2)