This is a song about "Cook"

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

I'm the butcher, the cook and heart taker

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

You know how jay-z said he wasn't going for the charts

How me holiday? i love it when mommy say

Fish flaying great cook and he ain't even gay

Cook a verse send it out hardly a look

I bet they thought they'd never see a big gone good

I got a thousand bitches, i'm not too good with vows

Look how we going to get out of this cook house

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

Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods

It's funny cause most of y'all ain't did shit

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