She had a bad dream in the seat the one as yesterday, the same one as last week by her favorite favorites, elmo, barbie, her purple baby and that little match box looks like dads car its fast on the lever, its nascar it jumps over elmo it can fly that far with in the front seat frontin' like a rapstar
hey girl, oh girl the greatest he the words to everything on the radio playlist he fakes the even makes all the faces and when he raises his voice it him feel like he's famous
yea papa got his on weavin down 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 daddy wont smoke no until the 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 angels they keep her distracted the strangest voices escape is a paradox, the childhood is locked in that music box
daddys drive around, mommys work shifts dreams, sleep little precious lay in that music box, escape in the sound of that music box (x2)
yea, daddy knows hes important the guy with the and tie they see at the court and it seems like he tryin to talk to police but at the car wash they him like the star that she sees like papas big wheels and the lollipop she gets makes her feel like a big not to have it yet, gotta sit still the toy that she knows is gunna come with the kids meal
she loves food conscious dad, he buys her the juice a little sip of soda, the pride go ahead baby girl dont spill those nuh uh papa roll a messy office compulsive in the way she laid them napkins all across the puts her feet up on the upholstery just kicks em to side to the beat .. on the radio she sings along like dad she knows all the but she leaves out the bad ones except bitch, she always the word bitch cause it makes her daddy laugh, its her trick
and when daddy picks mommy up fight they fights about money they fight about so she concentrates so so hard on the and herself inside of the bass and the movement
(x2)
turn buick off.