Son Of A Gun Lyrics - Janet Jackson

Ha, ha, who, who 

Thought youâd get the money too 

Greedy motherfuckers 

Try to have the 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 

Related 

23 One Hit Wonders You Still Can't Get Out Of Your Head 

HOT SONG: TWICE - 'Feel Special' - LYRICS 

NEW SONG: Miley Cyrus - 'Slide Away' - LYRICS 

Of your greedy self in the mirror 

Go on 

Sharp shooter into breakinâ hearts 

A baby jiggalo, a sex pistol 

Hollerinâ at everything that walks 

No substance, just small talk 

Know why youâre feelinâ on that girlâs behind 

You got a sleazy, one track mind 

Workinâ your work until you think you find 

Whoâs goinâ home with you tonight 

Oh, who you gonna give it to? Who you gonna steal it from? 

Whoâs 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 donât really love her? 

Oh, itâs gonna be a show down, knock down, drag down 

Gun slugger shoot âem 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 

I betcha think this song is about you 

Donât you, donât you, donât you 

Ha, ha, who, who 

Thought youâd get the money too 

Greedy motherfuckers 

Try to have the cake and eat it too 

Son of a gun 

You tell 'em, Carly 

Clouds in my coffee 

Go on 

Clouds in my coffee 

Ha, ha, who, who 

Thought youâd get the money too 

Greedy motherfuckers 

Try to have the cake and eat it too 

Sweatinâ me but Iâm not youâre type 

You think you irk me and youâre so right 

Iâd rather keep the trash and throw you out 

Stupid bitch in my beach house 

No, I ainât gonna go and act a fool 

And be the lead story on the nigga news 

Not me, sucker, Iâd never be your lover 

Iâd rather make you suffer, you stupid motha fucker 

Oh, who you gonna give it to? Who you gonna steal it from? 

Whoâs 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 donât really love her? 

Oh, itâs gonna be a show down, knock down, drag down 

Gun slugger shoot âem 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 

I betcha think this song is about you 

Donât you, donât you, donât you 

Ha, ha, who, who 

Thought youâd get the money too 

Greedy motherfuckers 

Try to have the 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 

We come with so many different tricks 

The apricot scarf was worn by Nick 

Nothing in the words refer to Nick 

Got a chip upon your shoulder, I just knocked it off 

Show me what youâre gonna do, I ainât âbout to run 

You have just run out of ammunition 

(I'm storm cloud, baby) 

Shootinâ blanks now, you son of a gun 

(You can roll like thunder all over me) 

No, no, no, no, no 

Itâs not what you say, itâs what you do 

Youâre so vain 

You probably think this song is about you 

Donât you, donât you, donât you, donât you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

Donât you, donât you, donât you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

I betcha think this song is about you 

Donât you, donât you, donât you 

Oh, go on 

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 

Who do you think you are, Rambo? 

Or a cumulonimbus cavulotus 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, you probably think this song is about you 

You tell 'em, Carly 

You probably think this song is about you 

Tell 'em now 

Yeah, you probably think this song is about you 

That's right, girl 

Is about you 

Go on 

Is about you 

Go on 

Is about you 

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