Song Lyrics Janet Jackson - Son of a Gun (Bad Boy Remix)    [Lyrics & Song Text Archive]
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Author/Artist/Singer: Janet Jackson
Music Title/Track: Son of a Gun (Bad Boy Remix)
Theme ID: 5668
Album: N/A


f/ Carly Simon, Missy Elliott, P. Diddy



* send corrections to the typist



[Chant: Janet]

Ha ha, hoo hoo, thought you'd get the money too

Greedy motherfuckers try to have your cake and eat it too



[Intro: P. Diddy]

This... is...

The... remix

(Now, that's that shit right here)

Bad Boy, baby

Janet, J.J.

(This goes out to all the clubs, ya feel me?)

The one and only

And you fine, Miss



[Verse 1: Janet]

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



[Missy {P. Diddy]

(I) changed all the credit cards

(and) switched the lock to all my doors (hehehe)

You thought my heart would be destroyed (mmmm)

Look around cuz I'm chillling boy (hehehe)

Whatcha go and get your lawyers for

I, makes my dough in just one show, you know

Your lawyer shoulda let you know, you know

When you sue me, ya gonna be broke you know

Ain't know you way you could bring me down (easy)

Any chick that you stick is real sleazy

Before I need you, I betcha gon' need me

You ain't want me anyway way, you wanted to be me

What made you think I'd keep you around

While I, work my ass off and you just lounge (huh?)

You slump, bump, son of a gun

And a, how much your worth?

I think negative Don {This is the remix



[Hook: Janet (Missy)]

Oh (oh), who you give it to

Who you gonna steal it from

Who's your next victim (the 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)



[Chorus: Janet & Carly {P. Diddy]

I betcha think this song is about you {Who you talkin' 'bout?

I betcha think this song is about you {Who you talkin' 'bout?

I betcha think this song is about you (yeah, yeah) {Who you talkin' 'bout?

I betcha think this song is about you

Don't you {Who you talkin' 'bout?

Don't you

Don't you

Don't you



[P. Diddy (overlaps last 2 lines)]

They call me "Diddy"

(It wasn't me!) Whatchu talkin' 'bout lawyers for?

(It wasn't me!) Why you wanna change locks and doors?

(It wasn't me!) Well, maybe it was, sure

But you know tomorrow, you'll love me some more

I'm back, another Visa, another set of keys

We did this last week Ma, don't get ammnesia (Remember?)

All this back and forth gotta quit

And by the way, THIS IS THE REMIX!



[Verse 2: Janet (Missy)]

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 never be your lover

I'm gonna make you suffer

You stupid mutherfucker (ok baby?)



[Missy]

You musta thought you had game like nigga what

Walk around like you down, you don't give a fuck

Cause you don't really want beef until you hit the streets

See, I ma 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 ta chill wit' me

But now you up on dem knees, still jockin 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 shit



[Missy singing]

I'm doing better with out you, playa

And I'm happy without you, playa



[Missy rapping]

And this song is about you, playa

Muthafuckin' son of a gun (Janet)



[Bridge: Janet (Missy)]

Gotta chip upon your shoulder

I just knocked it off (oh)

Show me what you gonna do (uh)

I ain't bout to run (uh)

You have just run out of ammunition (nigga right here)

Shootin blanks now (uh)

You son of a gun



Repeat Hook & Chorus



Repeat Chant til fade


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