[Intro: breathy, sensual -style]
Ay, Daddy… (ooh-ooh-wee~)
You got me lo-o-oca… (lo-o-oca~ yeah~)
[Verse 1]
2 AM FaceTime, shirt open wide (wi-i-ide~)
You say “baby, come here, don’t even try to hide”
I’m in your hoodie, nothing underneath (unde-e-er~)
Zoom on that chain, got me weak in the knees (kne-e-es~)
I hate how fast you get me wet
But I love it, what can I say? (say~)
[Pre-Chorus]
I don’t even smoke but I’m high off your skin (ski-i-in~)
Say less, pull up, let the night begin (begi-i-in~)
Windows fogged up, no words, just sin (si-i-in~)
I’m bad at lying… terrible at you (you-ou~ ah~)
[Chorus]
Daddy, why you feel like church on a Monday? (Monda-a-ay~ ooh~)
Hands on my waist like you praying my sins away (awa-a-ay~)
I’m floating, folding, lost in the deep end (dee-e-ep e-e-end~)
Love me loud then ghost till the weekend (wee-ee-kend~ yeah~)
I hate that I love how you ruin me softly (so-o-oftly~)
Leave me in pieces, still calling you “Daddy” (Da-a-addy~ mmm~)
I’m sick, I’m twisted, yours in the worst way (wo-o-orst way~)
Fuck me like you miss me, then act like it’s Thursday (Thursda-a-ay~)
[Verse 2]
You kiss my tattoos like you’re reading my trauma (trau-au-uma~)
Flip me over, whisper low, “calma, calma”
I laugh mid-stroke, you laugh too (too-oo~)
That’s the part nobody warned me about you (you-ou~)
We toxic, we honest, quiet then loud
Crying in your hoodie, still moaning out loud (lou-ou-oud~)
[Pre-Chorus]
I don’t even smoke but I’m high off your skin (ski-i-in~)
Say less, pull up, let the night begin (begi-i-in~)
Windows fogged up, no words, just sin (si-i-in~ ah-yah~)
[Chorus]
Daddy, why you feel like church on a Monday? (Monda-a-ay~)
I’m floating, folding, lost in the deep end (dee-e-ep e-e-end~)
I hate that I love how you ruin me softly (so-o-oftly~)
Still calling you “Daddy”… (Da-a-addy~ baby~)
[Bridge : Female vocals almost spoken whisper ]
I’m in my head like
“Does he love me? Does he love me not?”
You in my bed like
“Shut up, baby, take it off”
And I do… every time (ti-i-ime~)
[Final Chorus : stacked, long runs]
Daddy… you feel like church on a Monda-a-ay (Monda-a-ay~ ooh~)
I’m sick for you… still calling you Da-a-addy (Da-a-addy~ yeah~)
[fade ad-libs]
Ooh-wee~ ah-ah~ mmm~ Daddy~ I’m sick~