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
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