Lyrics
[Intro]
Laundry mountain
Bottle on the floor
Baby monitor glowing
Like a club I never tour (yeah)
[Verse 1]
It’s 3AM, I’m in a robe
One sock on, dad-bod mode
Microwave meal, still too cold
Got spit-up on my crypto code
Left hand diaper, right hand phone
One eye bloodshot, scrolling loans
“Rich Dad, broke dad” in my notes
RDAD charts look like my hopes
How I lose ten grand in a nap?
Baby woke up, market went cap
Wipe, fold, bag it, pat-pat back
Refresh portfolio, mild heart attack
Text from my bro like “come outside”
Bro, I been outside of my mind
Playground, playpen, late-night spreadsheets
This the new grind, this the new streets (yeah)
[Chorus]
I’m yelling at the moon or divorce court (ay)
Burped the kid, but my stock too short (too short)
RDAD down while the wipes run out
I’m a sad trap dad with a midnight pout
Screaming at the moon or divorce court (woah)
Baby got more toys than my net worth score
Auto-tune tears in a minivan stall
“I do, I did, I’m done” to these late-night calls
[Verse 2]
Pushchair flex, that’s my whip
Goldfish crumbs on the VIP list
White noise app on max in the crib
My playlist now is cartoons and ribs
Amazon cart full of wipes
College fund? That’s a like
I invest in sleep, it ghost me back
ROI low, but the dark eye bags slap
Group chat lit with “shots, let’s ride”
Only shots I take now, pediatric kind
My gym is stairs with the baby seat
Three trips up and I’m feeling the beat
Baby screaming, broker ringing
Both of them asking “what you bringing?”
I bring vibes, I bring milk
I bring trauma in a cardigan of guilt (yeah)
[Chorus]
I’m yelling at the moon or divorce court (hey)
Burped the kid, but my stock too short
RDAD down while the wipes run out
I’m a sad trap dad with a midnight pout
Screaming at the moon or divorce court (woah)
Baby got more toys than my net worth score
Auto-tune tears in a minivan stall
“I do, I did, I’m done” to these late-night calls
[Bridge]
Tell the judge I’m late ‘cause of nap time
Tell the moon I’m the king of the snack aisle
Tell my kid I was there on the front line
Changing futures and diapers in real time (ooh yeah)
[Chorus]
I’m yelling at the moon or divorce court
Burped the kid, but my stock too short
RDAD down while the wipes run out
I’m a sad trap dad with a midnight pout
Screaming at the moon or divorce court (yeah)
Baby got more toys than my net worth score
Auto-tune howl from the cul-de-sac lawn
If I make it through the night, that’s a Number One (let’s go)