This is a song about "Cook"

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

So i proposed that we cook her on a stove,

Whoa yo, yo.. no homo, i'm not gay, faggot

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

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

Cook up and run where i'm from, the south son,

What you doing when ross drop a hundred thousand

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

A lot of women from conversation could fall in love

Could you tell me where to go? i need direction

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

Now cook me a meal, gordon

Bad hoes i'm seen with them

Aye, hold your head homie, look

She even said she can cook!