Apron on. Oven hot. Got a little recipe For a whole lot of trouble. Let's cook. Two cups of flour, one cup of pride, A little vanilla to keep me dignified. Three eggs cracked — well, technically four, One hit the ceiling, one's under the door. The butter's a brick, the milk's gone rogue, There's something in the oven resembling a frog. The recipe says, “Fold gently with care.” I've folded the spoon. Now what have I done? The smoke alarm's screaming, the lights turn red, There's powdered sugar all over my head. The timer is ticking, the cat's on the run— Something tells me this ain't gonna be fun. I'm baking bad, bad, bad! The sweetest little crime you've ever had! A little bit burnt, a little bit mad, I'm the worst damn baker this town ever had! Mix it! Whip it! Keep it on the low, There's something in the oven that nobody should know. One wrong move and the whole thing goes bad— Welcome to the wonderful world of Baking Bad! The frosting's runnin' like it's seen a crime, This cake's got a lean of about forty-five. I tried to pipe roses — I summoned a slug, Then buried the evidence under glitter dust. There's a whisk in the sink and a spoon in my shoe, A suspicious green substance where the batter once grew. I followed the instructions, I did what they said— So why's my gingerbread man missing his head? The kitchen's a war zone, the floor's a swamp, The mixer just gave me a reason to run. I've got flour in places no flour should be— But this little operation belongs to me. I'm baking bad, bad, bad! The sweetest little crime you've ever had! A little bit burnt, a little bit mad, I'm the worst damn baker this town ever had! Mix it! Whip it! Keep it on the low, There's something in the oven that nobody should know. One wrong move and the whole thing goes bad— Welcome to the wonderful world of Baking Bad! Perhaps I added too much salt. Perhaps the recipe's not at fault. Perhaps I should have left it alone— But now this kitchen is my danger zone. Nobody saw a thing. Burn it low. Let it rise. Keep your hands clean. Tell no lies. Sugar. Spice. A pinch of dread. Something's moving— Was that the bread? I'm baking bad, bad, BAD! The sweetest little nightmare you've ever had! A little bit wicked, completely unhinged, With a five-star review from the kitchen bin! Mix it! Whip it! Let the whole world know, I'm the mastermind behind this dough! One wrong move and the whole thing goes bad— LONG LIVE THE QUEEN OF BAKING BAD! The recipe said it serves twelve. ... Nobody leaves until the dishes are done. One oven beep. End.
