Yep Yep

You must have thought you had game, now you, what?
Walkin’ ‘round, like you’re down, you don’t give a…
But you don’t really wanna be forgot into the streets,
I’m a lover, not a fighter, but I crack your teeth
Boy I plead please, no, don’t bother me.
Cuz when you had me you ain’t know how to chill wit’ me
You wanna be in the streets with the freak-nies
But now you all up on them knees, still joggin’ me.
But I’m gonna say it real, real, keep it real,
What the deal? How you feel? Is it real? Is you sick?
Cuz I’m the deal, still here, what the feelin’
Is real, don’t front, cuz boy I’m the…
I’m doin’ better without you, playa, and I’m happy without you, playa,
This song is about you, playa
Motha fucka son of a gun, Janet!

copyright Missy Elliot - Son of Gun by Janet Jackson