Dr. Martin lyrics

[Chorus]
Stars in a coupe, I got a Patek on my wrist
I done start takin' X, and I been high ever since
I shoulda started in a ranch, cause I been dressing round this b*tch
All the vibes with me like it's Spelman, I'm professor in this b*tch
Yeah, 1942, It got her lose, Saint Laurent stones and prada shoe
Hotbox, gotta hit em ooh
Yeah, my b*tch hotter than some soup
Dollar sign for anything she do
Heavy drinking, cousin need a deuce
Block 30 sweep it with the broom
Dr Martin's walking on the moon

[Verse 1]
And they Rick, I could never go [?]
Run it up, then I upgrade my bezel
They hate in the street, gotta keep heavy mеtal
Bumblebee head cake, yеah, black and yellow
Hood Baby, he teaching these n*ggas to ball
Spaceship, yeah, I don't know where to land
Yeah, I'm too tired don't know where to fall
Down on my di*k, and didn't nobody call
I gotta talk to em to work on the go
Boy, it's still f*ck you and long live the pope
I had to manifest, money got low
Way that I pop you, you wouldn't know I was broke
Thotty got it, took them hoes to the land
I'mma get tucked in this b*tch every chance
n*ggas don't like me, cause most of them fans (Top Chef)
I'm a big brother so watch me play with bands
She just want link with her boyfriend (Type sh*t)
I just want link with my girlfriend
She gave me head in a Cullinan
Double [?]
I fixed up my teeth with some pearl (Pope Livin')
I live this sh*t for a purpose (Pope Livin')
Harmin' me, get you burned (Pope Livin')
Lotta millions [?]
[Chorus]
Stars in a coupe, I got a Patek on my wrist (Top Chef)
I done start takin' X, and I been high ever since
I shoulda started in a ranch, cause I been dressing round this b*tch
All the vibes with me like it's Spelman, I'm professor in this b*tch
Yeah, 1942, It got her lose, Saint Laurent stones and Prada shoe
Hotbox, gotta hit em ooh
Yeah, my b*tch hotter than some soup (Type sh*t)
Dollar sign for anything she do
Heavy drinking, cousin need a deuce
Block 30 sweep it with the broom
Dr Martin's walking on the moon

[Verse 2]
Stick gon' fit and I'm walking
Yak in the cell, poppin' beans like in Boston
I'm tryna win I took too many losses
R.I.P Virgil, Off-White when I'm golfin'
I swim in that water jump out like a dolphin
My mama raised kings, I'm one of them bosses
This sh*t independent, didn't come with an offer
Yeah, for the millions, only way I'm talking (Hood Baby)
I knew these n*ggas gon' tell (Top chef)
I can't even look at them, they know they fell
How the f*ck y'all tryna sit down a player?
Just know Lil' Jeff gon' be a beast outta jail
L.A. My bible on stones (Free Thugger)
In Skyami, we don't talk on no phones (And Yak)
And Houston sh*t got on no throne (Hood Baby)
In New York we got pokes and [?]
Till a hundred years we're headed home
These b*tches know what it is
These n*ggas know what we on
My money long like the Jones (Styling)
60k on my neck, yeah, my brother on ice (Long live Pope)
One thing I know for sure, he proud, I'm living my life
[Chorus]
Stars in a coupe, I got a Patek on my wrist
I done start takin' X, and I been high ever since
I shoulda started in a ranch, cause I been dressing round this b*tch
All the vibes with me like it's Spelman, I'm professor in this b*tch
Yeah, 1942, It got her lose, Saint Laurent stones and Prada shoe
Hotbox, gotta hit em ooh (Type sh*t)
Yeah, my b*tch hotter than some soup (Type sh*t)
Dollar sign for anything she do
Heavy drinking, cousin need a deuce
Block 30 sweep it with the broom (Yeah)
Dr Martin's walking on the moon