Chorus]
My kid’s a Pop-Tart — frosted with flair,
Licked the wall and called it “air.”
Autistic sass, chromo+ shine,
Two neurospicy scoops in one wild design.
[Verse 1]
They stim like a DJ, dance like a fight,
Sniffed a candle once and said “This smells like spite.”
Routine’s law, socks are a scam,
Meltdown at noon ’cause toast touched ham.
Asked Alexa “Do ants pay rent?”
Then stared into space like the message was sent.
Got flashcards? They’ll eat ’em. Charts? They’ll burn ’em.
But can name every Pokémon in evolution order, confirm ’em.
[Pre-Chorus]
One minute sweet, next minute banshee,
Told Grandma “You’re old” — then demanded candy.
Chews on shirts, screams in cars,
But hugs like redemption and loves like Mars. 🚀
[Chorus]
My kid’s a Pop-Tart — bite-sized legend,
Loud in the library, quiet in the engine.
Special needs? Nah — special flex,
Got a meltdown playlist and no regrets.
[Bridge – whispered like a villain plot]
No eye contact? Still sees your soul.
Won’t say hi — but will rate your vibes cold.
Social rules? They audit them daily,
They once wore pajamas to court — bravely.
[Verse 2]
Speech delay, but shade is fluent,
Said “Your breath’s weird” to a guy named Ruin.
Stacked their food, refused to eat it,
Then asked for chips, screamed, and yeeted.
They’re sunshine dipped in glitchy gold,
Can’t tie shoes but their truths are bold.
Laughed during a funeral. Bit a priest.
Then kissed my face and called me "beast."
[Final Chorus]
My kid’s a Pop-Tart — zero chill,
Fought a vacuum and claimed the will.
They’re quirky, spicy, mildly cursed —
But I’d fight the sun if they said they were hurt. ☀️
[Outro – spoken like a mic drop]
They color outside the lines.
Because they ate the crayon.
And honestly? Same.
