Don't Read This, its Terrible(I'm Sorry)

As my potatoes pop and sizzle
Sweet butter do I drizzle
I'm hungry for these chips
These chips upon my lips

I'm a motherfucking baker
How am I supposed to shake her
It's the worst of days
At least I have my Lays

Lovely, laid in concrete
My death do I meet
Choking on the stale saltiness
I conjured to prolong my happiness