Michael and Sara, TikTok’s disease.
He’s breathin’ out death, she’s cookin’ with fleas.
Rotten teeth flashin', that decayed gold.
She’s tellin' tales crustier than 3-day-old mold.
Michael's mouth could melt straight steel.
Sara's food got that sewer appeal.
Roaches walk out when they hear her name.
They the couple of cringe, filth goin' viral.
Trashin’ the app like it’s their survival.
Rotten hearts, rotten food, rotten flair.
Livin' in denial with lice in the air.
He’s one tooth from gum collapse.
She’s one lie from full relapse.
Claimin’ they real, raw, and woke.
But all I see is a two-for-one joke.
Clout don’t clean what’s d**d inside.
TikTok’s finest? Health-code denied.
Grab your plate of microwave mess.
Viral for rot—nothing more, nothing less.
Michael and Sara, your fame's gone stale.
Even TikTok wants to cancel the tale.
Say cheese—but brush first, please.
This roast? Served hot—with a side of disease.