Lyrics of 'Head Doctor' by CEO Trayle

Yeah
Baby, baby, buy you red bottoms (skrrt)
Yeah

Uh
Baby, buy you red bottoms, uh
I just hope you turn into a head doctor, uh
Fuck them other hoes and what they say about you, uh
Nigga play with you, bet I see red 'bout you, yeah
Overly P how I'm gon' play it, got you, yeah

I kick it cool, but I'm not playin' soccer
Someone clear the roster (yeah)
Who that? He an imposter (huh?)
Steak and shrimp my pasta
The world is yours, wrote it on a blimp, don dada

He such a good father, he ain't have no father (uh-uh)
Slippers gold, Balenciaga
Slippers count, that's like my model
PTSD trauma

Thirty shots inside that Glock, this not the XD model (grrah-baow)
I just went hard, I didn't say: Bless me, Father
Father, forgive me, just a semi-auto
7. 62s out this Draco, they'll lift your car up (lift your car up)
You know I'm a superstar, my hoodie on, they spot him, uh

More money, more problems
Havin' problems money can't fix
I just can't quit
Told a bitch she ain't shit
Talked all that shit and can't take dick (lyin'-ass bitch)
Bitch, I walk like I'm rich
Talk like I know I'm the shit

From a dime to a brick
Had to re-up, take a trip
Bitch, I'm back on (I'm back on)
Need my bitch, she like my backbone
These niggas be hatin', bae
You know I'm comin' back home

Yeah, uh, you can't hit this 'Wood, lil' nigga, that shit that strong
Made a list of all my songs, that shit that long
Man, the clip that switch if he act wrong (blaow)
I can't snitch like Taxstone
Big C4 that crack flow
Suck this dick, don't act slow
Uh, straight to hell where the rats go
My Amiri's holdin' rubber banded bankrolls
All that work out in the gym and I ain't swole
Yeah, I won't ever spend no money on these stank hoes
Prada Papi, pop it Prada Kangol
Yeah, you ain't name a motherfuckin' place I can't go, uh
Know that this a Hellcat Durango (skrrt)
Took his chain and he got up askin': Where my chain go?
You must think some gold at the end of that rainbow (of that rainbow)
Outside cliquin' up and murkin' shit like Saints Row
Ayy, ayy, hold your blicky up if nigga ain't gon' take yours
Niggas steady dyin' 'bout these blocks that ain't yours
Nigga, Big Folks
Double-R, big Rolls
Standin' on my ten toes
Put my back to it, kick door

Nigga, that's how shit go (Kap, your name's on the beat)
Nigga, that's how shit go
Big Folks
Big 4