This is a song about "Cook"

Riding that big body, shorty be hitting the curb

Using shards to cook others from broken lyrics i shattered.

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

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

I’m picturing that body like a camera phone would

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

Who said i don't rep, i am naija all day

Fish flaying great cook and he ain't even gay

It's cause of you, see, you let him do that

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

Lobsters and shrimp im good

She even said she can cook!

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

It cook up imagination to generations of our nation