This is a song about "Line cook maggianos"

Oh, i was raised by the stop sign

Put 'em all in a line

Would look at us all the time

I perfect every line

Can you faggots keep up line for line

Just the perfect time, just to master mine

It cook up imagination to generations of our nation

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

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

If she cook and keep her vagina like a secret

No matter what i cook i know the fucking recipe,

Bitches tend to love a nigga with the most money

Back down, before i cook you like rice.

I'm the author for gangsters, tough guys

I'm the butcher, the cook and heart taker

Earl sweatshirt, tyler, the creator