Correction Lyrics Son of a Gun (Route 80 Mix) by Janet Jackson

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Lyrics

Ha-ha, hoo-hoo
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherf**ker
Try to have your cake and eat it too
Missy, remix
Yo, check this out, you greedy motherf**ker
I changed all the credit cards
And switched the lock to all my doors
You thought my heart would be destroyed
Look around 'cause I'm chilling, boy
Whatcha go and get your lawyers for
I makes my dough in just one show, you know
Your lawyers should have let you know, you know
When you sue me, you gonna be broke, you know
Ain't no way that you could bring me down easy
Any chick that you stick is real sleazy
Before I need you, I betcha you don't need me
You ain't want me anyway, you wanted to be me
What made you think I'd keep you around
While I work my a** off and you just lounge, huh?
You slump, bump, son of a gun
And uh, how much you worth?
I think negative, done

Sharp shooter into breakin' hearts
Baby gigolo, a sex pistol
Hollerin' at everythin' that walks
No substance, just small talk
Know why you feelin' on that girl's behind
You got a sleazy one-track mind
Working your work until you think you find
Who's goin' home with you tonight
Oh (Oh!), who you give it to
Who you gonna steal it from
Who's your next victim
That's right, like
Oh (Oh!), who you gonna lie to
Who you gonna cheat on
Who you gonna leave alone
That's what I'm talking about
Oh (Oh!), what ya gonna tell her
After she discovers
You don't really love her
Oh (Oh!), gonna be a showdown
Knock down, drag out
Gunslinger shoot 'em up
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
Don't you
Remix!
I'm doing better without you
And I'm happy without you

Sweatin' me but I'm not your type
You think you irk me and you're so right
I'd rather keep the trash and throw you out
Stupid b*t*h in my beach house
Naw, I ain't gone go and act a fool
And be lead story on the n***a news
Never be your sucker
I'll never be your lover
Id rather make you suffer
You stupid motherf**ker

Oh (Oh!), who you give it to
Who you gonna steal it from
Who's your next victim
That's right, like
Oh (Oh!), who you gonna lie to
Who you gonna cheat on
Who you gonna leave alone
That's what I'm talking about
Oh (Oh!), what ya gonna tell her
After she discovers
You don't really love her
Oh (Oh!), gonna be a showdown
Missy
Knock down, drag out
Gunslinger shoot 'em up
Shoot em' up, come on
You musta thought you had game like n***a what
Walkin' round like you down, you don't give a f**k
'Cause you don't really want beef, I'll take it to the streets
See, I'm a lover not a fighter, but I'll crack ya teeth
Boy, plea plea nah don't bother me
'Cause when you had me, you ain't know how to chill with me
You wanna beez in the streets with the freaks neaks
But now you up on dem knees, still joggin me
But I ma say it real real, keep it real
What da deal, how ya feel, is it ill, is it sick (Misdemeanor!)
Cause I da deal, still here with appeal and it's real
Don't front cause boy I da sh*t

I'm doing better without you, playa
And I'm happy without you, playa
And this song is about you, playa
Motherf**kin' son of a gun

Got a chip upon your shoulder
I just knocked it off
Show me what you gonna do
I ain't bout to run
You have just run out of ammunition
Shootin' blanks now
You son of a gun

Missy, Janet, Carly

Oh (Oh!), who you give it to
Who you gonna steal it from
Who's your next victim
That's right, like
Oh (Oh!), who you gonna lie to
No, no, no, no, no
Who you gonna cheat on
Who you gonna leave alone
That's what I'm talking about
It's not what you say, its what you do
Oh (Oh!), what ya gonna tell her
After she discovers
You don't really love her
You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you
Oh (Oh!), gonna be a showdown
Knock down, drag out
Gunslinger shoot 'em up
Don't you, don't you, don't you, don't you
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
I betcha think this song is about you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't you

Ha-ha, hoo-hoo
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy motherf**ker
Try to have your cake and eat it too
I'm gone

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