This is a song about "Cook"

The therapist nicknamed me kid cudi, i killed my fifth buddy

No matter what i cook i know the fucking recipe,

That happen to act like a black president

She couldn't really cook but that woman tried her best

I give him a helpin' hand, bring him out to thugz mansion

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

And everything on tv just a figment of imagination

It cook up imagination to generations of our nation

But keep them cigarettes away

Fish flaying great cook and he ain't even gay

I moved you up to hills, out the ills of the ghetto hood

This aint a song its a warnin to brooke, hogan and david cook

Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her

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

She even said she can cook!

10 chains, hustle hard: ace hood