Текст: Atmosphere. In Her Music Box.
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 match box looks just like dads car
It's fast on the lever, pretends it's nascar
It jumps over elmo cause it can fly that far
With daddy in the front seat frontin' like a rapstar
Hey girl, oh girl daddys 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 him feel like he's famous
Yea papa got his lean on
Weavin down lake street tryin to get his scene on
Stop in 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
But he can steak his mack while she takes a nap
To the sweet pretty sounds of the gangster rap
The high hats are angels voices
They keep her distracted from the strangest voices
Escape is a paradox, because the childhood is locked in that music box
[Chorus:]
Daddys drive around, mommys work night shifts
Sweet dreams, sleep little precious
Lay down in that music box, escape in the sound of that music box
[x2]
Yea, daddy knows people hes 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 of the [? ]
They like papas 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 gunna 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
Nuh uh papa can't roll a messy office
Compulsive in the way she laid 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, it's her magic trick
And when daddy picks mommy up they fight
They fights 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
[Chorus x2]
Turn that buick off.
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 match box looks just like dads car
It's fast on the lever, pretends it's nascar
It jumps over elmo cause it can fly that far
With daddy in the front seat frontin' like a rapstar
Hey girl, oh girl daddys 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 him feel like he's famous
Yea papa got his lean on
Weavin down lake street tryin to get his scene on
Stop in 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
But he can steak his mack while she takes a nap
To the sweet pretty sounds of the gangster rap
The high hats are angels voices
They keep her distracted from the strangest voices
Escape is a paradox, because the childhood is locked in that music box
[Chorus:]
Daddys drive around, mommys work night shifts
Sweet dreams, sleep little precious
Lay down in that music box, escape in the sound of that music box
[x2]
Yea, daddy knows people hes 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 of the [? ]
They like papas 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 gunna 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
Nuh uh papa can't roll a messy office
Compulsive in the way she laid 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, it's her magic trick
And when daddy picks mommy up they fight
They fights 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
[Chorus x2]
Turn that buick off.
Atmosphere
Atmosphere
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