In Her Music Box - ATMOSPHERE

She had a bad dream in the backseat

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 that looks like 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

Hey girl oh girl Daddy’s the greatest

He knows the words to everything on the radio playlist

He fakes the accent, even makes all the faces

And when he raises his voice

It makes her feel like he’s famous

Yea Poppa got his lean on

A mean one

Weavin down Lake street-tryin to get his scene 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 steak his Mack while she takes a nap

To the sweet pretty sounds of the gansta rap

The high hat to angels voices

They keep her distracted from the stranger’s voices

Escape is a paradox, because a childhood is locked in that music box

Daddies drive around, Mommies work night shift

Sweet dreams, sleep little precious

Lay down in that music box

Escape in the sound of that music box

Daddies drive around, Mommies work night shift

Sweet dreams, sleep little precious

Lay down in that music box

Escape in the sound of that music box

Yea 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 through 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

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 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 leave out the bad ones

Except bitch-she always sings the word bitch

Cause 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 night shift

Sweet dreams, sleep little precious

Lay down in that music box

Escape in the sound of that music box

Daddies drive around, Mommies 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