Cas One - Vultures lyrics

(Verse1:Cas One) They pickin' at the dead looking for some meat Then they sittinat my table lookin' for a meal to eat Similar scenes interweave to piece the puzzle back together Motherf**ers think they're clever but never been better Than an image sittin' on burnin' bridges fishin' for some interest in it But didn't fit the shoes they stole to look a little different, ah Opportunity knocks you the f** out Big leaguer poppin' sh** from the dug out Watch'em all run out, sad story to the bank Motherf**ers my age got that teenage angst Wrap it up and put a bow on top of rap music And eat the rotting chest out of anything you do with it (Verse2:Bitter Stephens) In the wasteland of vulture I sculpt another masterpiece Gorilla knuckle drag across the street through your smoke screen Hypocritic cynicals that seem to be the centerpiece Of everything that's left within me still a bitter seed Bragadocious blood s**ers teeter totter relevance Money hungry fingers in the jar on some peasant sh** The elephant in the room is how elegant I can do this Whenever the feather drops you better be ready to say I knew this I walk atop the gla** broken shards piercing boot heels Chasin' every gimmick that's living off my food still Motherf**ers recognize to rectify is past tense Found your bag of lies and sliced it open with a match stick Type to spark a topic just to start and plot some fiction I never liked you anyways you fit in where you got in, b*tch! (Verse3:Prolyphic) Vultures circle the room sneeky seekin' easy pickins Sleezy chickens with greasy fingerprints, it's a greedy business Their greedy visions can't see the difference Between the forest from the trees eye'n teens and the wheaties image Preachy deliverance speedy writtens to the needy victims Lickin' self inflicted wounds that the TV gives'em Those rated PG beats be easy listenin' weak in systems Speakin' isms to the teenies with no meaning in'em You kitschy poppy Ricky Bobby pick a different hobby Dick jockies rip copies who mimic Watsky Wanna get ripped strip the heart slip the artery Tapped it for what it's worth like Bobby did to Whitney's body (Verse 4 The Metermaids) (Sentence)-Method actors practicin' how to convince they go H.A.M We like f** it free ball it off the cuff no plans While they were trying to alter their ego's like they were Xal Xan I picked the bones clean strung'em up and played a slow jam Got the persona bo*er rockin' it coppin' a T-shirt I'm a believer sure as cops don't pocket the reefer Under the table wait for scraps to fall from the fingers I see you vultures top notch bottom feeders (Swell)-Maybe it's time to let the headsflame out like Bam Bam Biggalo So get your hand out the cookie jar son (let me get it though) Marketing plans can't make a band write some sh** that's dope Even playing the worlds smallest piccolo (he ripped it bro) I ride with six guns regardless of beats, rhymes, or cash flow Same goes for Cas and Pro M stine Halo Strange Famous till the grave lays us in the dirt nap And I still probably make the birds clap (cacaw)