In Her Music Box - Atmosphere

She had a bad dream in the back seat

The same one as yesterday, the same one as last week

Surrounded by her favorite favorites

Elmo, Barbie, her purple baby blanket

And that little Matchbox, looks just like Dad's car

Its fast on the leather, pretends its nascar

It jumps over Elmo cause it can fly that far

With Daddy in the front seat talking like a rap star

And girl, oh girl, Daddy's the greatest

He knows the words to everything on the radio play list

He fakes the accent, even makes all the faces

And when he raises his voice it makes her feel like he's famous

Yeah Papa got his lean on

Weavin down Lake Street tryin to get his scene on

Stoppin the whip to say something out the window

Bobbin his head to the beat on the radio

Good Daddy wont smoke no weed

Until the bass cradles her back to sleep

But he can steak his mack while she takes a nap

To the sweet pretty sounds of the gangsta rap

The high hats are angles' voices

They keep her distracted from the strangers' voices

Escape is a paradox

Because the childhood is locked in that music box

Daddys drive around, Mommys work night shift

Sweet dreams, sleep little precious

Lay down in that music box

Escape in the sound of

Daddys drive around, Mommys work night shift

Sweet dreams, sleep 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 kids meal

She loves drive-thru food

Health conscious Dad, he buys her the juice

A little sip of soda builds the pride

Go ahead baby-girl don't spill those fries

Nu-uh, Papa cant roll a messy office

Compulsive in the way she lay them napkins all across the seat

Never puts her feet up 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 she leaves out the bad ones

Except "bitch" she always sings the word "bitch"

Cause it makes her daddy laugh, its her magic trick

And when Daddy picks Mommy up they fight

They fight about money, they fight about life

So she concentrates oh so hard on the music

And loses herself inside of the bass and the movement

Daddys drive around, Mommys work night shift

Sweet dreams, sleep little precious

Lay down in that music box

Escape in the sound of

Daddys drive around, Mommys work night shift

Sweet dreams, sleep little precious

Lay down in that music box

Escape in the sound of that music box

Turn that Buick off