| You can’t crawl out your basement
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| If you want a few heart palpitations
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| I guess we can come to a foul arrangement
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| Something like a modern-day Faust and Satan
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| It’s all unfolding behind my back
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| I provide the facts
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| You’ll supply the rumours
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| I draw for the top drawer
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| Whip out a ballpoint pen and rewrite your futures, yeah
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| I send 'em to Hell in a flash but the Devil ain’t belling me back
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| It’s a par
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| I guess he’s sat with a sket on his lap
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| Getting head in the back of a car
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| Rip the flesh off your face, let us see what you actually are
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| You’re all about self-preservation
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| I’ll pickle your features and shatter the jar
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| The life I live’ll rip your eyelids clean off
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| And chain your brain to a fence with a D-Lock
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| Force you to rewatch my whole past
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| In a pitch-black room on a five-year detox, yeah
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| Pick holes in a kids whole ethos
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| Reel off lies all night
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| Your life’s a freshly killed carcass you can’t get a piece off
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| Swinging at the vultures on them shoulder blades (shoulder blades)
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| Topping up the vodka as my soul decays (soul decays)
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| I’ve been pumping poison in my skull for days
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| I told 'em 'Fuck your golden age'
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| 'Cause right now I circle them all like a brain dead vulture (vulture)
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| Bottle on each wing, Devil on each shoulder (shoulder)
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| Right now I circle 'em all like a brain dead vulture (vulture)
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| Bottle on each wing, Devil on each shoulder (shoulder)
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| Devil on each shoulder (shoulder)
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| Yeah, I been through Hell, I’ll extrapolate later
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| Original warehouse raver
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| I was in a 3 8 Mansion
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| Mashed on a handful of tabs tryna navigate Asia
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| Stirring opium into my drink
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| Waking up retching and missing the sink
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| Stop necking spirits and visit a shrink
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| 'Cause your brain never grants you permission to blink
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| Your future is written in pink
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| You’re still up at 9 a.m. ringing this link
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| Face all deadout, the kid is extinct
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| You’re still chewing limbs off Little Miss Shrimp
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| Now, wait
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| Who we talking 'bout?
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| Bare cracked mirrors in a haunted house
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| Where all these skets get escorted out
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| While they pull all the P out of your account
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| I saw that enormous mouth of yours widen
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| Whole room fell silent
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| Out marched one limp fish, and a thousand dead thoughts
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| All seeking asylum
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| Cue the whole room tryna fake one morsel of awkward excitement
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| I dark 'em all out till I feel enlightened
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| Swinging at the vultures on them shoulder blades (shoulder blades)
|
| Topping up the vodka as my soul decays (soul decays)
|
| I’ve been pumping poison in my skull for days
|
| I told 'em 'Fuck your golden age'
|
| 'Cause right now I circle them all like a brain dead vulture (vulture)
|
| Bottle on each wing, Devil on each shoulder (shoulder)
|
| Right now I circle 'em all like a brain dead vulture (vulture)
|
| Bottle on each wing, Devil on each shoulder (shoulder)
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| Devil on each shoulder (shoulder) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Vulture , by - Jam Baxter. Song from the album Touching Scenes, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп