Hot Stuff / Hot Shit Songtext
von Turbonegro
Hot Stuff / Hot Shit Songtext
Hot stuff – when I see you on my TV screen.
Hot stuff – oh, you make me wanna cream my jeans.
Hot shit – oh boy, I wish I was your man.
Baby, take good care in Afghanistan.
Hot lips – when I see you on the battlefield.
Hot tits – oh girl, I hope you don't get killed.
Hot shit – oh baby, you just look so good.
but it looks like you're stuck in the wrong neighborhood.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You took a bite of my heart, now I don't know what to do with it.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You hijacked my heart, now I think I'm gonna throw a fit.
Hot buns – in the middle of a firefight.
Hot boobs – hand grenades tearing up the night.
Hot legs – don't lose your heart to another man,
like the leader of some warring clan.
Hot cakes – let me know, can I anticipate
Hot lips – to wine and dine you at a special date?
Hot skin – when you get back, tell me yes or no.
Get out of the warzone, I need you so.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You took a bite of my heart, now I don't know what to do with it.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You hijacked my heart, now I think I'm gonna throw a fit.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You took a bite of my heart, now I don't know what to do with it.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You hijacked my heart, now I think I'm gonna throw a fit.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You took a bite of my heart, now I don't know what to do with it.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You hijacked my heart, now I think I'm gonna throw a fit.
(Hot stuff.)
Hot stuff – oh, you make me wanna cream my jeans.
Hot shit – oh boy, I wish I was your man.
Baby, take good care in Afghanistan.
Hot lips – when I see you on the battlefield.
Hot tits – oh girl, I hope you don't get killed.
Hot shit – oh baby, you just look so good.
but it looks like you're stuck in the wrong neighborhood.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You took a bite of my heart, now I don't know what to do with it.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You hijacked my heart, now I think I'm gonna throw a fit.
Hot buns – in the middle of a firefight.
Hot boobs – hand grenades tearing up the night.
Hot legs – don't lose your heart to another man,
like the leader of some warring clan.
Hot cakes – let me know, can I anticipate
Hot lips – to wine and dine you at a special date?
Hot skin – when you get back, tell me yes or no.
Get out of the warzone, I need you so.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You took a bite of my heart, now I don't know what to do with it.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You hijacked my heart, now I think I'm gonna throw a fit.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You took a bite of my heart, now I don't know what to do with it.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You hijacked my heart, now I think I'm gonna throw a fit.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You took a bite of my heart, now I don't know what to do with it.
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
Hot shit.
You hijacked my heart, now I think I'm gonna throw a fit.
(Hot stuff.)
Writer(s): THOMAS SELTZER, KNUT SCHREINER, PAL KJAERNES, CHRISTER ENGEN, HANS DYVIK, RUNE GRONN Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com