This is a song about "Cook"

Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree

No matter what i cook i know the fucking recipe,

Sometimes you buy the ring, with no problems you will love

Fetching my dick almost as quick as they cook and they clean dishes

Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes

So i proposed that we cook her on a stove,

Back down, before i cook you like rice.

I'm the author for gangsters, tough guys

It cook up imagination to generations of our nation

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

Tornado tornado and i'm trynna blow your mind

Ill boil your insides and cook you alive, oxygen deprived,

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

Cook a verse send it out hardly a look