

Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Pulled up quick Gold sign gleamin in the rain Dollar menu Callin harder than my name Steam on the glass Salt in the air Grease on my fingers And I don’t even care [Chorus] I like McDonald’s more than dinner at home When the bag hits the table I’m already gone Got a fry in my fist Got a burger in hand Sorry mom But your cooking’s kinda bland (yeah, it’s bland, it’s bland) [Verse 2] Big Mac stack Drippin down my sleeve Nugget box open There’s a kingdom of cheese Apple pie lava Burnin up my tongue Her boiled-no-spice Can’t touch this fun [Chorus] I like McDonald’s more than dinner at home When the bag hits the table I’m already gone Got a fry in my fist Got a burger in hand Sorry mom But your cooking’s kinda bland (oh mom, understand) [Bridge] She says “sit down Eat what I made” But it’s pale on the plate Like it’s stuck in the shade I need ketchup rivers Pickles Crunch And slam Not another gray spoon Of “mystery yam” [Chorus] I like McDonald’s more than dinner at home When the bag hits the table I’m already gone Got a fry in my fist Got a burger in hand Sorry mom But your cooking’s kinda bland I like McDonald’s Shout it out with the band (ba-da-ba, I’m a fan)
Tags
rock, Crunchy garage rock with male vocals, fuzzy double-tracked guitars, loose snare-heavy drums, and a pushed, slightly distorted lead vocal. Verses stay tight and half-spoken with call-and-response shouts; chorus explodes with gang vocals and wide power chords. Short middle breakdown with tom-heavy stomp and feedback swell before a final, shout-along hook., male vocals, garage rock
2:31
No
2/17/2026