Luyện nghe bài hát Vultures

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

Like serpents and snakes, they they bite
whatever it takes they get what they
stay fake and go where they like
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 shake when take a part
and break it apart who swim the sharks.

(chorus)
at the eyes, pick at the brains
because wretchedly sick and deranged.
Cause you's a a wicked vulture!
Pick at the pick at the soul
Pick 'em and drag 'em into your hole
Cause you's a 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 things is for next year
but you disappear as soon as the checks clear
you lash out at the poor and tell 'em to give you
everything off for the church, sleep on the floor
you point the juiciest out to all the vampires
but in the dark you might get bit by spiders.

Lizards and bugs, and mosquitoes,
hookers with drugs and ass needles,
alley way cats, and rats,
killers with gats you with bats
they scums, bums as anything and goes
they mix with of hoes, dirty like all of those
I suppose cause is the way that they 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, rattle they bite
whatever it takes they get what like
and they gonna hide, and gonna run
but they gonna suffer carnival fun
and no mistake they do got a heart
blacker than coal and hard as a rock
they gonna visit the clowns
and they gonna parish We you now.

(chorus X2)