This is a song about "Chandler cook"

I give him a helping hand, bring him out to thugz mansion

Smother it with butter and cook it for my next of kin.

Skinny jeans, but a nigger still hood

She even said she can cook!

I'm the butcher, the cook and heart taker

You too young and you don't know what i'm fightin' for

Rollin’ and chokin’ and movin’ slow motion, i’m floatin' on good

This aint a song its a warnin to brooke, hogan and david cook

With this rap shit, you know i do the fucking most

So i proposed that we cook her on a stove,

I told him get his 9 and run

Cook up and run where i'm from, the south son,

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

Dear momma don't cry, your baby boy's doin good

Cook a verse send it out hardly a look