This is a song about "My dads iron"

And i snap like bob backlund in the booth

Iron my clothes, pick out some shoes

But most dads are the same, while most moms are unique. (x2)

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

Than diggin' in your couch, looking for your car keys

The pavement tastes like iron and there's stains on my knees

Too tall for comfort, the iron giant is on his feet.

Livin' off ya dreams like christina uh-milian in the front seat

My dads a liability

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands

Mom's stressed from two dads, putting more crap on her laps

And if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks

Iron fist like gauntlets to your jaw for heroics

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed

I miss the sixpack i had, now i turn iron into gold