(Warning: This poem has content that may not be suitable for children.)
I shouldn't have given my son a choice when I bought him a car.
He could've chosen something cheaper but he wanted a Jaguar.
He was reckless when he drove his Jaguar, he even jumped it like it was the General Lee.
When he totaled that $70,000 car, he wanted another car and he had the nerve to come to me.
He said that he expected me to buy him a new Ferrari.
I lost my temper and that spoiled brat sure was sorry.
I hate to say it but I hate my son because he's a little prick.
I put a dynamite cap in his britches and blew off his dick.
Women love my son's new Ferrari and at first things go well.
But when they learn that he has no dick, they tell him to go to Hell.
When I put that dynamite cap in my son's pants, you should've seen us.
People may think I'm bad but I don't regret blowing off my son's penis.