This is a song about "Cook"

Now cook me a meal, gordon

Me and my microphone could be one

I never use a fork i always spoon her

I'm the butcher, the cook and heart taker

Remember this face, save me a place, in thug's mansion

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

Fish flaying great cook and he ain't even gay

Then some lady named billie holiday

Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

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

I've been so thorough, that's what i boast for