This is a song about "Cook"

Lord, you're so pretty, lying in my arms

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

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

Wish you niggas father understood where the condom was

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

Annihilatin' those, i'm rakin' but makin' dough

Cook a verse send it out hardly a look

A couple milli in the bag and my face good

Now cook me a meal, gordon

Tryna find the one

So i proposed that we cook her on a stove,

So while you worry about the hoes

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

Look, i got no time for that type of connection