What Gives My Son?

Far be it for me to say you're loose son Far be it for me to say you're no one I've heard your excuse, I've heard your excuse I've heard your excuses, every one You don't know what's going You don't know what's going You don't know what's going on my son Far be it for me to say you're brain dead It might help if you get your a*s out of bed It twists me inside to see your girlfriend's backside She get tongue-tied and run You don't know what's going You don't know what's going You don't know what's going on my son My son, my son You're my son You're my son I'm older than you You can't be a man too Your hair's too long Get out of my home Get out of my home Papa, growing old You're growing cold I said growing old You're growing cold You went too far You crashed my car You crashed my car You crashed my car I'm in a rage Get off of that stage Get off of that stage Okay, okay