This is a song about "Line cook maggianos"

Why would i worry? i am forever blessed

She couldn't really cook but that woman tried her best

I perfect every line

Fight for what broad, these hoes ain't mine

I'm always cheesin', smile for a reason

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

Gyal me know you's a freak from long time

My hypothesis is drawn fine line

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

Thought you was a cutie, though your booty mad thin

Grown men never should bite their tongue

Now cook me a meal, gordon

I’m on these niggas mind like lice

Back down, before i cook you like rice.

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

The little engine that could, this little nigga is good