She had a bad in the back seat the same one as yesterday, the one as last week by her favorite favorites, elmo, barbie, her purple baby and that little box looks just like dads car its fast on the lever, pretends its it jumps over elmo it can fly that far with daddy in the front seat frontin' a rapstar
hey girl, oh girl daddys the he knows the words to on the radio playlist he the accent even makes all the faces and when he raises his voice it makes him like he's famous
yea got his lean on weavin down lake street tryin to get his on in the whip to say somethin out the window bobbin' his head to the beat on the good daddy wont no weed until the bass cradles her back to but he can steak his while she takes a nap to the sweet pretty of the gangster rap the high are angels voices they her distracted from the strangest voices escape is a paradox, because the childhood is in that music box
daddys drive around, mommys work shifts sweet dreams, sleep precious lay down in that music box, in the sound of that music box (x2)
yea, daddy people hes important the guy with the suit and tie they see at the and it seems like he aint tryin to to police but at the car wash they treat him the star that she sees they like papas big and the lollipop she gets makes her feel a big deal not allowed to have it yet, sit still like the toy that she knows is come with the kids meal
she loves drive-thru conscious dad, he buys her the juice a little sip of soda, the pride go ahead baby girl dont spill fries nuh uh papa cant a messy office compulsive in the way she them napkins all across the seat never her feet up on the upholstery just em side to side to the beat .. on the radio she along like dad does she all the words but she leaves out the bad ones except bitch, she always sings the bitch it makes her daddy laugh, its her magic trick
and when daddy picks up they fight they fights about they fight about life so she concentrates so so on the music and herself inside of the bass and the movement
(x2)
turn buick off.