This is a song about "Cook"

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

Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look

I'm on a thousand islands like mcdonald's cows

Look how we going to get out of this cook house

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

Cause i walk around with pockets that are bigger than my bus

We'll cook ya for lunch and serve you at red lobster,

You is not hip then i can not coach her

She even said she can cook!

She got that good good

But even when you leave, somehow it still try to follow

I'm tired of mcdonalds, want a chick that cook chicano

If its not couture, i will not go to her

I'm the butcher, the cook and heart taker

Heating up like may weather, dog i'm on that floyd shit

You claim you a thug crook a drug cook you ain't it