This is a song about "Late 1800s medical practices"

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

We need protectors not fucking medical professors/

And use it all to get high on the medical herbs

You hear the words coming from my lips bastards

Here to give you, a medical bill, plan to spit chemical spill

It's terminally, permanently, seriously ill

Two dyke jawns but tonight they straight

No never but rather late/

Bitch call a fucking doctor, bring a medical chopper,

While his fiends for cream well exceeded the dream she once lived for

Let em marinate, you forever late

You gotta pay homage in order to get paid

I'm dreaming to be great

Cus now nigga its to late

Verse two:yeah niggai got tha word as hellya blew trial and tha judge gave you

The legal medical got me savoring each and every chew