She had a bad in the back seat the same one as yesterday, the same one as last surrounded by her favorites, elmo, barbie, her purple baby and little match box looks just like dads car its fast on the lever, pretends its it over elmo cause it can fly that far with daddy in the front seat frontin' a rapstar
hey girl, oh girl the greatest he the words to everything on the radio playlist he fakes the accent even all the faces and when he raises his voice it makes him feel like famous
yea got his lean on down lake street tryin to get his scene on stop in the whip to say out the window his head to the beat on the radio good daddy wont smoke no the bass cradles her back to sleep but he can steak his mack while she a nap to the sweet pretty of the gangster rap the high hats are voices they keep her distracted from the voices is a paradox, because the childhood is locked in that music box
daddys drive around, work night shifts sweet dreams, little precious lay down in that music box, escape in the sound of that box (x2)
yea, daddy knows 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 papas big wheels and the lollipop she gets makes her like a big deal not to have it yet, gotta sit still like the toy that she knows is gunna come with the meal
she loves drive-thru conscious dad, he buys her the juice a little sip of soda, the pride go ahead baby dont spill those fries nuh uh papa cant a messy office compulsive in the way she laid them napkins all the seat never puts her up on the upholstery 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 her daddy laugh, its her magic trick
and when daddy mommy up they fight they fights about they fight about life so she so so hard on the music and herself inside of the bass and the movement
(x2)
turn buick off.