- Votes:
- Genres:
- Hip-Hop
 
- Tags:
- atmosphere
- great lyrics
- independent hip hop
 
- See also:
Atmosphere - In Her Music Box lyrics
[Slug - Verse 1]
 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
 [Chorus]
 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
 Atmosphere - In Her Music Box - http://motolyrics.com/atmosphere/in-her-music-box-lyrics.html
 [Slug - Verse 2]
 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
 [Chorus]
 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--















