Son of a Gun (I Betcha Think This Song Is About You) [feat. Carly Simon]

Ha, ha, who, who Thought you'd 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 Of your preening self in the mirror Go on Sharp shooter into breakin' hearts Baby jiggalo, sex pistol Hollerin' at everything that walks No substance, just small talk Know why you're feelin' on that girls behind You got a sleazy, one track mind Workin' your work until you think you find Who's goin' home with you tonight? 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 you gonna tell her after she discovers You don't really love her? Oh, it's gonna be a show down, knock down, drag down Gun slugger 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? Ha, ha, who, who Thought you'd 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 you'd get the money too Greedy motherfuckers Try to have the cake and eat it too 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 No, I ain't gonna go and act a fool And be the lead story on the nigga news Not me, sucker, I'd never be your lover I'd rather make you suffer, you stupid motherfucker 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 you gonna tell her after she discovers You don't really love her? Oh, it's gonna be a show down, knock down, drag down Gun slugger 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? Ha, ha, who, who Thought you'd 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 All right now We come with so many different tricks The apricot scarf was worn by Nick Nothing in the words refer to Mick Got a chip upon your shoulder I just knocked it off Show me what you're gonna do I ain't 'bout to run You have just run out of ammunition (I'm storm cloud, baby) Shootin' blanks now You son of a gun (You can roll like thunder all over me) Oh, who you gonna give it to? Who you gonna steal it from? Who's your next victim? (No, no, no, no, no) Oh, who you gonna lie to? (It's not what you say, its what you do) Who you gonna cheat on? Who you gonna leave alone? (You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you) Oh, what you gonna tell her after she discovers You don't really love her (Don't you, don't you, don't you, don't you) Oh, it's gonna be a show down, knock down, drag down Gun slugger 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 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? 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? I'm gone 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 Go on You probably think this song is about you You tell 'em, Carly You probably think this song is about you Don't hurt him now Yeah, you probably think this song is about you That's my girl Is about you Go on Is about you Go on You probably think this song is about you You son of a gun Son of a gun Son of a gun