She had a bad in the back seat the one as yesterday, the same one as last week surrounded by her favorites, elmo, barbie, her purple blanket and that little match box looks just dads car its fast on the lever, its nascar it jumps over elmo cause it can fly far daddy in the front seat frontin' like a rapstar
hey girl, oh daddys the greatest he the words to everything 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 papa got his on down lake street tryin to get his scene on stop in the whip to say out the window bobbin' his head to the beat on the good wont smoke no weed until the cradles her back to sleep but he can his mack while she takes a nap to the sweet sounds of the gangster rap the high are angels voices they keep her distracted from the strangest escape is a paradox, because the childhood is locked in that box
daddys drive around, mommys work shifts sweet dreams, sleep little lay down in that box, escape in the sound of that music box (x2)
yea, daddy knows people hes the guy the suit and tie they 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 like papas big wheels and the lollipop she makes her feel like a big deal not allowed to have it yet, sit still the toy that she knows is gunna come with the kids meal
she drive-thru food conscious dad, he buys her the juice a little sip of soda, the pride go ahead baby dont spill those fries nuh uh cant roll a messy office compulsive in the way she laid them all across the seat never puts her feet up on the kicks 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 word cause it makes her daddy laugh, its her magic
and when picks mommy up they fight they fights about money they fight about so she so so hard on the music and herself inside of the bass and the movement
(x2)
turn that off.