This is a song about "Cook"

You claim you a thug crook a drug cook you ain't it

Ya’ll be highly obliged when i drop my shit

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

It cook up imagination to generations of our nation

Cook up and run where i'm from, the south son,

I sip the def ale with all the fly women

Jim chose to give his work to smash in dough

I'm looking for a girl to wash, cook, clean and sew

And that i spent the night with her

I'm the butcher, the cook and heart taker

‘cause i’m addicted and you the drug, cold turkey? no sir

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

I'm tired of mcdonalds, want a chick that cook chicano

Never tell em bend over i just make em’ take a bow