This is a song about "Doctors"

You strapped to machines, barley alive. doctors saying its a miracle,

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

Pockets morbidly obese, i'll be tourin for loot

No doctors and lawyers or nurses and cops, just fast food,

They need to be prostate doctors, how they going after butts

I'm out bk with these fast girls and all my cash good i miss slow bucks

Maharishi kicks and bape tee's i really do this

Fake doctors giving us symptoms of illnesses

Listen, uno papi chulo bout to show you what you been missing

You hate doctors (dr.) but you been on [(dr)ugs] you been [(dr)inking]

The doctors at the hospital did an analysis

I've got a paper plane, it's propelling my buzz

And have the doctors piece you back together.... with any luck.

Middle finger missing so i can not give a fuck