I spend it make it right back on a monday
Fish flaying great cook and he ain't even gay
Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts
Fuck pigs, fuck guards, all some fucking retards
Each day it gets more realer, orangutan's bang like gorillas
Fetching my dick almost as quick as they cook and they clean dishes
Cook up and run where i'm from, the south son,
See with a district columbia vision
The little engine that could, this little nigga is good
This aint a song its a warnin to brooke, hogan and david cook
{*both*} but first lemme, lemme, lemme talk to her
But she's a good cook and supporter
Back down, before i cook you like rice.
Sky high, iced out paradise
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