She had a bad dream in the seat the same one as yesterday, the same one as week surrounded by her favorites, elmo, barbie, her baby blanket and that little box looks just like dads car its fast on the lever, its nascar it over elmo cause it can fly that far with daddy in the seat frontin' like a rapstar
hey girl, oh girl the greatest he knows the to everything on the radio playlist he fakes the accent even makes all the and when he raises his voice it makes him feel like famous
yea papa got his on weavin lake street tryin to get his scene on stop in the whip to say somethin out the bobbin' his head to the on the radio good daddy wont smoke no until the cradles her back to sleep but he can steak his while she takes a nap to the sweet pretty sounds of the rap the high hats are angels they keep her distracted from the voices is a paradox, because the childhood is locked in that music box
daddys drive around, mommys night shifts dreams, sleep little precious lay down in that music box, escape in the sound of music box (x2)
yea, knows people hes important the guy with the suit and tie see at the court and it like he aint tryin to talk to police but at the car they treat him like the star that she sees they papas big wheels and the lollipop she gets makes her feel like a big not allowed to have it yet, gotta sit like the toy that she knows is gunna come the kids meal
she loves food health conscious dad, he her the juice a little sip of soda, the pride go ahead baby girl dont spill those nuh uh papa cant roll a messy compulsive in the way she laid napkins all across the seat never her feet up on the upholstery just em side to side to the beat .. on the radio she sings like dad does she knows all the words but she leaves out the bad except bitch, she always the word bitch cause it makes her laugh, its her magic trick
and when picks mommy up they fight they fights about money they about life so she concentrates so so hard on the and loses herself inside of the bass and the
(x2)
turn that off.