不是, 是Carly Simon 唱的
Son Of A Gun (I Betcha Think This Song Is About You)
With Carly Simon
(Janet Jackson, James Harris III, Terry Lewis, and Carly Simon)
(chant)
Ha ha
Hoo hoo
Thought you'd get the money too
Greedy mutherfuckers
Try to have your cake
And eat it too
Carly:
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
Sharp shooter into breakin' hearts
A baby gigolo - a sex pistol
Hollerin' at everything that walks
No substance just small talk
Know why you feelin' on that girl's behind
You gotta sleezy one track mind
Workin' your work until you think you find
Who's goin' home with you tonight
(b-section)
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 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
(chorus)
I betcha think this song is about you (4x)
Don't you (4x)
(chant)
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 sucker
I'll never be your lover
I'm gonna make you suffer
You stupid mutherfucker
(b-section)
(chorus)
I betcha think this song is about you (4x)
Don't you (4x)
(chant)
Janet: Let's dance
You tell 'em, Carly
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 Mick
(bridge)
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
(b-section)
(Chorus)
(Carly's Rap)
Janet and me thick as thieves
Never met yet but I'll venture a bet
There's a common threat to our common dream
And if wasn't for that damn cream
There'd be no clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee
Who you think you are, Rimbaud
Or a cumulonimbus capillatus
Or a cirrus or an altostratus
Somebody to make somebody like me proud
In the encyclopedia of clouds
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
Probably think this song is about you
Yeah, you probably think this song is about you
Is about you
Is about you
You probably think this song is about you |