Cook up and run where i'm from, the south son,
But hold the beat, he ain't speaking for everyone
But really i'm just caught in the loop, of understanding the truth
Goin' ham in beef it's raw, i cook it up with twisted news,
Fuck pigs, fuck guards, all some fucking retards
Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts
No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose
So i proposed that we cook her on a stove,
Of impactful things one can ask for
I'm the butcher, the cook and heart taker
Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods
Got them bomb ass drugs cause i follow all the cook books
We'll cook ya for lunch and serve you at red lobster,
Life is a bitch so a g can't sweat her
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