This is a song about "Sam cook"

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

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

I'm more furious then serious sam

$100 measles man, issue me with ego man

So i proposed that we cook her on a stove,

So while you worry about the hoes

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

Everybody finger point in your direction

I'm why baby mommas leave

Even uncle sam agrees.

Ok, black panamera, dash on a million

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

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Tko sam ja, sta si ti