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letra de vulture - jam baxter

[verse 1]
you can’t crawl out your bas-m-nt
if you want a few heart palpitations
i guess we can come to a foul arrangement
something like a modern-day faust and satan
it’s all unfolding behind my back
i provide the facts
you’ll supply the rumours
i draw for the top drawer
whip out a ballpoint pen and rewrite your futures, yeah
i send ’em to h-ll in a flash but the devil ain’t belling me back
it’s a par
i guess he’s sat with a sket on his lap
getting head in the back of a car
rip the flesh off your face, let us see what you actually are
you’re all about self-preservation
i’ll pickle your features and shatter the jar
the life i live’ll rip your eyelids clean off
and chain your brain to a fence with a d-lock
force you to rewatch my whole past
in a pitch-black room on a five-year detox, yeah
pick holes in a kids whole ethos
reel off lies all night
your life’s a freshly k!lled carc-ss you can’t get a piece off

[chorus]
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 ‘f-ck 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)
devil on each shoulder (shoulder)

[verse 2]
yeah, i been through h-ll, i’ll extrapolate later
original warehouse [hanger lane?] raver
i was in a 3 8 mansion
mashed on a handful of tabs tryna navigate asia
stirring opium into my drink
waking up retching and missing the sink
stop necking spirits and visit a shrink
’cause your brain never grants you permission to blink
your future is written in pink
you’re still up at 9 a.m. ringing this link
face all deadout, the kid is extinct
you’re still chewing limbs off little miss shrimp
now, wait
who we talking ’bout?
bare cracked mirrors in a haunted house
where all these skets get escorted out
while they pull all the p out of your account
i saw that enormous mouth of yours widen
whole room fell silent
out marched one limp fish, and a thousand dead thoughts
all seeking asylum
cue the whole room tryna fake one more syllable [?] excitement
i dark ’em all out till i feel enlightened

- jam baxter

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