This is a song about "Cook"

Look how we going to get out of this cook house

To read for seven pounds, you must release several pounds

But she's a good cook and supporter

Of impactful things one can ask for

No matter what i cook i know the fucking recipe,

Niggas fuck with your boy, i can make you some money

Fish flaying great cook and he ain't even gay

I swear i'm coming back one day

All on the furniture with no regards

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

Stir the beef up in a pot, it's hot, cook it up and sell it,

And i ride for any nigga who believe in the shit

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

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