Chick Doctors

[Intro]
They said “Doctor”
I said “Really?”
Grab your books
This might sting a little (ha)
[Verse 1]
Four names on the wall like a flex, that’s cute
Canonized clout, but the logic don’t compute
You dress it up nice, gold frame, stained glass
But the footnotes flimsy and the arguments trash
You twist old texts just to fit your mood
Call it “deep thought” — I just call it skewed
If truth is a tree, your roots ain’t set
Whole branch of your “wisdom” still in debt
[Chorus]
Chick doctors
But the doctrine sick, doctors
Got a halo and a hood pass?
It don’t fix, doctors
You can quote, you can chant, you can pick chapters
But the rot in the core
That’s your script, doctors
Chick doctors
Got a title, not the answers
If the pill is poison
I don’t sip, doctor
[Verse 2]
You bless blind spots, call the cracks “mystery”
Patch bad takes, rewrite history
Every hard question gets a soft reply
Like “accept, adore, don’t ask why”
You preach “pure love” with a guilty glare
Stack shame on souls like a folding chair
You say “it’s beautiful” when it looks like chains
Perfume on the problem, same old pain
[Chorus]
Chick doctors
But the doctrine sick, doctors
Got a halo and a hood pass?
It don’t fix, doctors
You can quote, you can chant, you can pick chapters
But the rot in the core
That’s your script, doctors
Chick doctors
Got a title, not the answers
If the pill is poison
I don’t sip, doctor
[Bridge]
I ain’t dissing your brains or your birth
I’m dissing that dogma you dress up as worth
If the map is wrong
I don’t care who drew it
Saint, sage, sister
If it’s false, we undo it (yeah)
[Chorus]
Chick doctors
But the doctrine sick, doctors
Got a halo and a hood pass?
It don’t fix, doctors
You can quote, you can chant, you can pick chapters
But the rot in the core
That’s your script, doctors
Chick doctors
Got a title, not the answers
If the pill is poison
I don’t sip, doctor

rap, Hard-hitting boom-bap rap, mid-tempo, male vocals with a gritty bite. Sparse piano stabs and dusty drums in the verses, bass hits locking with tight hi-hats. Hook explodes with crowd-style gang vocals and layered ad-libs. Final verse ramps aggression with doubled vocals and brief drop-outs before the last bar lands cold and dry.