She had a bad dream in the seat the same one as yesterday, the one as last week surrounded by her favorites, elmo, barbie, her purple blanket and that match box looks just like dads car its on the lever, pretends its nascar it jumps elmo cause it can fly that far with daddy in the front seat like a rapstar
hey girl, oh daddys the greatest he the words to everything on the radio playlist he fakes the accent makes all the faces and he raises his voice it makes him feel like he's famous
yea papa got his 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 wont smoke no weed the bass cradles her back to sleep but he can his mack while she takes a nap to the sweet pretty of the gangster rap the high are angels voices keep her distracted from the strangest voices escape is a paradox, because the childhood is in that music box
daddys drive around, work night shifts sweet dreams, little precious lay down in that music box, in the sound of that music box (x2)
yea, daddy people hes important the guy with the and tie they see at the court and it seems like he aint tryin to to police but at the car wash they him like the star that she sees they like big wheels and the she gets makes her feel like a big deal not allowed to have it yet, sit still like the toy that she is gunna come with the kids meal
she loves food health dad, he buys her the juice a little sip of soda, the pride go ahead baby dont spill those fries nuh uh papa cant roll a messy compulsive in the way she laid them napkins all across the 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 sings the word bitch cause it makes her daddy laugh, its her trick
and when daddy mommy up they fight they fights about money they about life so she concentrates so so on the music and loses herself inside of the and the movement
(x2)
turn that off.