Pocket full of fu**ing loot

The story:

I was riding along in the back seat of my moms station wagon,
I was about 7 or 8 and she had the radio on. The song Boy
From New York City was playing. I was singing as loud as I
could and at the part that says "pockets full of spending loot" I
said "pockets full of f**king loot". My mom screeched to a stop
and asked me what I said. I repeated myself and as my older
sisters died laughing, my mom slowly pulled back into traffic.