This is a song about "Cook"

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

Forever in debt to the lord for he's given

Skinny jeans, but a nigger still hood

Cook a verse send it out hardly a look

Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

Dinner time she bring a friend, write my shit so vicious

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

Ain't too fond of relationships though my hobby is relation

It cook up imagination to generations of our nation

They say that karats help your vision

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

Living in a gangsta’s paradise

Back down, before i cook you like rice.

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

That's words to my mama, since i wasn't a starter