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 excuses,
every one

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 ass 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 on
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

Papa, growing old
You're growing cold

You went too far
You crashed my car
I'm in a rage
Get off of that stage
Okay