Janet Jackson: Son Of A Gun (I Betcha Think This Song Is About You)
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Tekst piosenki
Janet Jackson: Son Of A Gun (I Betcha Think This Song Is About You)
Ha ha
Hoo hoo
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy mutherfuckers
Try to have your cake and eat it too
Sharp shooter into breakin hearts
A 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 gotta sleezy one track mind
Working your work until you think you find
Who's goin home with you tonight
Oh, who you 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 ya gonna tell her
After she discovers
You don't really love her
Oh, gonna be a showdown
Knock down - drag out
Gunslinger 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
I betcha think this song is about you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't 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 bitch in my beach house
Naw I ain't gone go and act a fool
And be lead story on the nigga news
Not me sucher
I'll bnever be your lover
I'm gonna make you suffer
You stupid mutherfucker
Oh, who you 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 ya gonna tell her
After she discovers
You don't really love her
Oh, gonna be a showdown
Knock down - drag out
Gunslinger 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
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 mutherfuckers
Try to have your cake and eat it too
Gotta 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
Oh, who you 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 ya gonna tell her
After she discovers
You don't really love her
Oh, gonna be a showdown
Knock down - drag out
Gunslinger 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
I betcha think this song is about you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't you
Hoo hoo
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy mutherfuckers
Try to have your cake and eat it too
Sharp shooter into breakin hearts
A 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 gotta sleezy one track mind
Working your work until you think you find
Who's goin home with you tonight
Oh, who you 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 ya gonna tell her
After she discovers
You don't really love her
Oh, gonna be a showdown
Knock down - drag out
Gunslinger 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
I betcha think this song is about you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't 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 bitch in my beach house
Naw I ain't gone go and act a fool
And be lead story on the nigga news
Not me sucher
I'll bnever be your lover
I'm gonna make you suffer
You stupid mutherfucker
Oh, who you 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 ya gonna tell her
After she discovers
You don't really love her
Oh, gonna be a showdown
Knock down - drag out
Gunslinger 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
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 mutherfuckers
Try to have your cake and eat it too
Gotta 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
Oh, who you 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 ya gonna tell her
After she discovers
You don't really love her
Oh, gonna be a showdown
Knock down - drag out
Gunslinger 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
I betcha think this song is about you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't you
Don't you
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Janet Jackson: Son Of A Gun (I Betcha Think This Song Is About You)
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Janet Jackson: Son Of A Gun (I Betcha Think This Song Is About You)
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Teksty piosenek
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Moje 5 minut
EKIPA
„Ekipa prezentuje piosenkę "Moje 5 minut". [Refren: Zbyszek Król, Kuba Jurek, Marta Różańska] (Pięć minut, to jest moje pięć minut) (W ręce as, nie chcę więcej stać z tyłu) (Pięć minut, tojest mo”
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1DAY IN LA
bambi, Oki, francis
„Zwrotka 1: bambi Prosisz mnie żebym już żyła powoli Kupisz mi wszystko, co mnie zadowoli Ja nie umiem zabrać niczego od Ciebie Bo z mojej kieszeni się sypie za wiele Fuckboy'e na backu mnie prosz”
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Do końca dni - x Majtis, samunowak
FANKA
„Za tobą pójdę, gdzie nie był nikt A zanim usnę, sprawdzę czy śpisz Tobie oddam moje życie, oddam każdą jedną chwilę Jesteś tą melodią, do której moje serce bije I nie muszę szukać już Wiem, że ”
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Dame Un Grrr - x Kate Linn
Fantomel
„Dame un grr Un qué? Un grr Un qué, un qué? Un grr Un qué? Un grr Un grr (x4) Un qué? I love When you shake it, shake it When I see you go cecererece My body go wake”
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Nie życzę ci źle
Quebonafide
„Nie życzę ci źle Nie życzę ci źle Nie życzę ci źle Nie życzę ci źle Może tylko by nietoperz wkręcił ci się w łeb Może żeby ci zamknęli ulubiony sklep By przykleił się jak rzep, pech z tych nie”
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