Big man, big hands
 
 Strong back, strong mind
 
 Golden glove, at 16
 
 Good looking like steve mcqueen
 
 I'm dumb, he's mad
 
 I push to fight
 
 He says, "let's go"
 
 I said, "all right"
 
 Hey, i said, "okay"
 
  
  Yeah, poppa bought a pick-up truck
 
 With bottle tops and that's enough
 
 A beat up piece of chevrolet
 
 Blue and white rustin' away
 
 Aww, still we ride
 
 Yeah, just father and son
  
 
 Small child, front seat
 
 Mouth in dad's ear
 
 As they drive that truck
 
 In the night, in the night
 
 Looking up at the night
 
 Through dark windshields
 
 Buster browns won't reach
 
 I ask to drive
 
 And he says, "okay"
  
 
 Well, papa bought a pick up truck
 
 With bottle tops and that's enough
 
 A beat up piece of chevrolet
 
 Blue and white rustin' away
 
 Aw, still we ride
 
 Yeah, just father and son
  
 
 Cool hand says, "i'm a man who can eat fifty eggs"
 
 And, "sayin' it's your job, don't make it, make it right"
 
 We laugh, we cry
 
 We say, "that's right"
 
 He says, "let's drive"
 
 We say, "all right"
 
 Yeah, we said, "okay"
  
 
 Papa says, "let's go for a ride"
 
 "oh, we'll grab a bite to eat"
 
 "hell boy, might even let you drive"
 
 I said, "hey pop, oh, turn up the radio"
 
 "aw, 'cause that's my favorite song"
 
 "hey, that's my favorite song"
 
 As we went along
 
 Oh, roll down your window
 
 As we went along
 
 Yeah, just father and son
 
 Hey, just like we were
 
 Yeah, a father and son
 
 Hey papa, "dairy queen sounds good to me"
 
 And papa, "pull off here, i've got to take a leak"
 
 And papa, "you're gonna have to kill me, to keep me down"
 
 And papa, you laugh when i say,
 
 "move it up here, dragline"
 
 Oh, dragline
 
 Uh, uh, uh