Hot Stuff/Hot Shit

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.)