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She had a bad dream in the back seat Same one as yesterday Same one as last week Surrounded by her favorite favorites Elmo, Barbie, her purple baby blanket And that little Matchbox it looks just like Dad's car It's fast on the leather, pretends its NASCAR It jumps over Elmo 'cause it can fly that far With Daddy in the front seat frontin' like a Rap star And Girl oh Girl, Daddys the greatest He knows the words To everything on the radio play list He fakes the accents, even makes all the faces And when he raises his voice It makes her feel like he's famous Yeah Poppa got his lean on, a mean one Weavin' down the Lake Street tryin' to get his seen on Stoppin' the whip to say somethin' out the window Bobbin' his head to the beat on the radio Good Daddy won't smoke no weed Until the bass cradles her back to sleep Then he can stake his mack while she takes a nap To the sweet pretty sound of the gangster rap Shhh, the high hats are angel's voices They keep her distracted From the stranger's voices Escape is a paradox Because her childhood is locked in that music box
Daddies drive around, Mommies work nightshift Sweet dreams, sweet little precious Lay down in that music box Escape in the sound of that music box
Yeah, Daddy knows people he's important The guy with the suit and tie they see at the court And it seems like he ain't tryin' to talk to police But at the car wash they treat him Like the star that she sees They like Poppa's big wheels And the lollipop she gets Makes her feel like a big deal Not allowed to have it yet, gotta sit still Like the toy that she knows is gonna come With the Kid's Meal She loves drive thru food Health conscious Dad, he buys her the juice A little sip a soda builds the pride Go ahead Baby Girl don't spill those fries Nuh-Uh Poppa can't roll a messy office Compulsive in the way She lay them napkins all across the seat Never puts her feet on the upholstery Just kicks 'em side to side to the beat on the radio She sings along like Dad does She knows all the words but leaves out the bad ones Except bitch, she always says the word bitch Because it makes her Daddy laugh, it's her magic trick And when Daddy picks Mommy up they fight They fight about money, they fight about life So she concentrates so so hard on the music And loses herself inside of the bass and the movement
Daddies drive around, Mommies work nightshift Sweet dreams, sweet little precious Lay down in that music box Escape in the sound of that music box Turn that Buick off
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