Vultures

I couldn't really do anything, you know

So once I left, once I left home you know

That's when I started doing all that drinking

And throwing bottles, and all that kind of stuff

And, uh, and drawing on the streets

Yeah

Which was, uh, so, and that

That was rooted in a frustration?

When Hermano talk, it's quiet

Because what imma say gon start a riot

My words on the microphone is violence

So when Hermano talk, it's fucking silence

Analysing the history, write the science

Document my milestones, counting up all the finance

Waiting for Hermano to drop this shit, there's a slight chance

Forming their opinions, now they all begging for my stance

My opinion's non-discretionary

And listening is something I promise is necessary

My body secondary to the mind, the secretary

It's very scary, this a horror film, Hereditary

This hip-hop generation claim they legendary

But if you asking me I only get that very rarely

And when I'm done I feel content knowing I'm for the vultures

So here's some problems that I know that I got with the culture

The fans are never satisfied

New album every 2 years, around that time

And yet they beg for more, they on the floor, Oliver Twist

And then the rapper leave, and the fans screaming "son of a bitch"

They need more, greed whores, yeah they sucking the dick

Feeling like they're all entitled to limitless hits

Record labels do the same, yeah they're squeezing the tip

Knowing contracts are forcing the infinite drip

Why do we rush the art just for the greed?

Why the fuck would we give a fuck about the speed?

It's a want, it's a privilege, but it's not a need, yeah

Put the phone down and let the fucking artist breathe, yeah

They already get enough shit from corporate schemes

Losing all copyrights to those recording thieves

Until the signature dry up, they forcing keys

And don't even get me started on the touring themes

The fans are never satisfied

Cause the fans hate the other fans, all the time

Moving hands in the sand, drawing battle lines

Fans damaging the fan base, cannibalized

No pacifying, you Drake-side or Kanye

You die straight if you diss André or Beyoncé

When you enter in that room, you prepare to die

Cause everyone's own opinion is objectified

Accidentally you stumble into a conversation

You look around and see a face full of hesitation

Everybody staring at them as they make their statement

"If you ask me Rodeo's kinda overrated"

Instantly, they get hit with invalidation

"No you're wrong", "shut the fuck up" get reiterated

They get abused, they get consumed, and they lose their breath

Once again, it's the fans eating themselves to death

The fans are never satisfied

Changing minds on the daily, all the time

Being fine with the changes of certain guys

But then they hate it when others try to capitalize

So it's okay for Ye to make a Yeezus switch

But then Utopia was really too derivative?

Listen in, I pray you fuckers listen again

Cause how much do you care about the listening?

And how much do you care about the influence?

And how much does it really make you give a shit?

This is radical but really take a minute kid

Thinking big, the music sounds pretty fucking fire

So I'll be honest I don't think I could give a shit

Whether or not that synth is reminiscent bitch

Whether or not the drum pattern sounds kinda like

Something that was made over 10 years distance

The fans are never satisfied

Fuck it I'm a fan and I'm not satisfied, I'm agonized

I want to hear the music but the voice I hear is paralyzed

Between a man that's innocent and a man that I can't stand beside

I tried to listen casually but only heard the second voice

And saw the second face, I had to make a second choice

30 hours was the only one that I had locked

Cause I know the first voice on that track would be just as shocked

But fuck that, fuck your ignorance and tolerance

And this goes out to everyone, I pray you fucks acknowledge this

It's not about the two faces or politics

It's about the genocide, and it's about your consciousness

It's about the regicide that I know that you can't commit

It's about the people in your life still facing suffering

It's about knowing there's a line and who is crossing it

It's about not being a fucking Nazi-apologist

The fans are never satisfied

And never care about the art

When? All the time

And that extends to the labels and the industry

It's clear to see, no mystery, just check your fucking history

And back to me, all the artists in my generation

Making masterpieces, mastering with dedication

But all the masses all amassing to a masturbation

That's emasculating, it's a massive fucking mass-erasion

They just eat them up, and masticate, and spit them out

All the ones before, impossible to hear them now

They were used, thoroughly abused, see them drowned

Crucified, all in red with a bleeding crown

A part of me wonders whether that's my destiny

I look down the dark road, what's ahead of me?

Is a bleeding-out artist what I'm meant to be?

And then I look around, remember that I'm seventeen

So, and that

That was rooted in a frustration?

I'd say so

And does that spirit carry over into your paintings

Do you think?

Well I hope so

Hate to think I was getting soft