Son Of A Gun (I Betcha Think This Song Is About You) - The Original Flyte Tyme Remix

de Janet Jackson

Ha, ha, who, who
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherfuckers
Try to have their cake and eat it too
Son of a gun
Son of a gun

You're such a romantic hero
The way you dress and look yourself over
It's no wonder you would ponder that image
Of your preening self in the mirror
(Go on)

Sharpshooter into breakin' hearts
A baby gigolo, a sex pistol
Hollerin' at everything that walks
No substance, just small talk
Know why you're feelin' on that girl's behind
You got a sleazy, one track mind
Workin' your work until you think you find
Who's goin' home with you tonight?

Oh, who you gonna give it to?
Who you gonna steal it from?
Who's your next victim?
Oh, who you gonna lie to?
Who you gonna cheat on?
Who you gonna leave alone?
Oh, what you gonna tell her after she discovers
You don't really love her?
Oh, it's gonna be a showdown, knock down, drag out
Gun-slingin', shoot 'em up

I betcha think this song is about you
I betcha think this song is about you (I betcha)
I betcha think this song is about you (yeah, yeah)
I betcha think this song is about you
Don't you, don't you, don't you?

Ha, ha, who, who
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherfuckers
Try to have their cake and eat it too
Son of a gun
Son of a gun

(You tell 'em, Carly)
Clouds in my coffee
(Go on)
Clouds in my coffee

Ha, ha, who, who
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherfuckers
Try to have their cake and eat it too

Sweatin' me but I'm not your type
You think you irkin' me and you're so right
I'd rather keep the trash and throw you out
Stupid bitch in my beach house
No, I ain't gonna go and act a fool
And be the lead story on the nigga news
Never me, sucker, I'd never be your lover
I'd rather make you suffer, you stupid motherfucker

Oh, who you gonna give it to?
Who you gonna steal it from?
Who's your next victim?
Oh, who you gonna lie to?
Who you gonna cheat on?
Who you gonna leave alone?
Oh, what you gonna tell her after she discovers
You don't really love her?
Oh, it's gonna be a showdown, knockdown, drag out
Gun-slingin', shoot 'em up

I betcha think this song is about you
I betcha think this song is about you
I betcha think this song is about you (yeah, yeah)
I betcha think this song is about you
Don't you, don't you, don't you?

Ha, ha, who, who
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherfuckers
Try to have their cake and eat it too (let's dance)

(You tell 'em, Carly)
Clouds of various shapes and sizes
Most guys like to evaluate their prizes
(Alright now)
We come with so many different tricks
The apricot scarf was worn by Nick
Nothing in the words refer to Mick

Got a chip upon your shoulder, I just knocked it off
Show me what you're gonna do, I ain't 'bout to run
You have just run out of ammunition
(I'm storm cloud, baby)
Shootin' blanks now, you son of a gun
(You can roll like thunder all over me)

Oh, who you gonna give it to?
Who you gonna steal it from?
Who's your next victim?
(No, no, no, no, no)
Oh, who you gonna lie to?
(It's not what you say, it's what you do)
Who you gonna cheat on?
Who you gonna leave alone?
(You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you)
Oh, what you gonna tell her after she discovers
You don't really love her?
(Don't you, don't you, don't you, don't you?)
Oh, it's gonna be a showdown, knockdown, drag down
Gun slugger, shoot 'em up

I betcha think this song is about you
I betcha think this song is about you
(Yeah yeah yeah)
I betcha think this song is about you
(I bet you think)
I betcha think this song is about you
I betcha think this song is about you
(Don't you)
I betcha think this song is about you
(I bet you)
I betcha think this song is about you
I betcha think this song is about you
Don't you, don't you, don't you?

I betcha think this song is about you
I betcha think this song is about you
(Yeah yeah yeah)
I betcha think this song is about you
(Bet you think)
I betcha think this song is about you
I betcha think this song is about you
(Don't you?)
I betcha think this song is about you
(I bet you)
I betcha think this song is about you
I betcha think this song is about you
Don't you, don't you, don't you?

(I'm gone)
Son of a gun
(Go on)
Janet and me, thick as thieves
Never met jet but I'll venture a bet
There's a common threat to our common dream
(Tell 'em, Carly)
And if it wasn't for that damned cream
There'd be no clouds in my coffee, clouds in my coffee
(Ha ha ha ha ha)

Who do you think you are, Rambo?
Or a cumulonimbus capillatus or a cirrus or an altostratus?
Somebody to make somebody like me proud
(You tell 'em, Carly)
In the encyclopedia of clouds?
(Alright now)
No no no no
It's not what you say, it's what you do
You're so vain

(Go on)
You probably think this song is about you
(You tell 'em, Carly)
You probably think this song is about you
(Don't hurt him now)
Yeah, you probably think this song is about you
(That's my girl)

Is about you
(Go on)
Is about you
(Go on)
You probably think this song is about you
(You son of a gun)
Son of a gun
Son of a gun
Son of a gun

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