This is a song about "Cook"

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

I moved you up to hills, out the ills of the ghetto hood

Well i'm fruit punch concentrate and they water

But she's a good cook and supporter

Ill boil your insides and cook you alive, oxygen deprived,

Pray you rich in confidence, now i'm paying you mind

Fetching my dick almost as quick as they cook and they clean dishes

I hear you callin' me to come back, i'm a sucka for love

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

She even said she can cook!

Signing off brother ali, sincerely yours

Got them bomb ass drugs cause i follow all the cook books

T.i. literally wanted to shoot up the charts

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts