This is a song about "Cook"

I spend it make it right back on a monday

Fish flaying great cook and he ain't even gay

Spittin heat like a toaster cook you pop tarts

Fuck pigs, fuck guards, all some fucking retards

Each day it gets more realer, orangutan's bang like gorillas

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

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

See with a district columbia vision

The little engine that could, this little nigga is good

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

{*both*} but first lemme, lemme, lemme talk to her

But she's a good cook and supporter

Back down, before i cook you like rice.

Sky high, iced out paradise