This is a song about "Cook"

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

For petty sake not even heavyweight, it's never good

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

Yea i’m on that ball shit, boy you with that soft shit

We can't catch the beat

We will cook you up and eat,

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

You know how jay-z said he wasn't going for the charts

So i proposed that we cook her on a stove,

Actually i like a broad that can bag hoes

My pockets got paper on paper

I'm the butcher, the cook and heart taker

It cook up imagination to generations of our nation

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation