This is a song about "Cook"

Young peyton don't huddle, still run my play

Fish flaying great cook and he ain't even gay

Lord, you're so pretty, lying in my arms

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

Back down, before i cook you like rice.

I’m on these niggas mind like lice

Apprehend a couple men, triple six is fuckin' sin

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

Fuck a label on my jacket, screw you like a ratchet

Stir the beef up in a pot, it's hot, cook it up and sell it,

She in colors and shit, she off that northern lights, right

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

Goin' ham in beef it's raw, i cook it up with twisted news,

Always keep it up to date, that's why the hoes choose