Bagpipes from Baghdad - Eminem

Oh! It’s music to my ears, Oh man!
How can I describe, the way I feel?
Fuckin great man! Okay, let me see
How could I begin

Locked in Mariah’s wine cellar all I had for lunch
Was red wine, more red wine, and Captain Crunch
Red wine for breakfast and for brunch
And to soak it up and in between snack, crackers to munch
Mariah, what’s ever happened to us, why did we have to break up
All I asked for was a glass of punch
You see, I never really ask for much
I can’t imagine what’s going through your mind after such
A nasty breakup with that Latin hunk
Weisman Gale, Nick Cannon better back the fuck up
I’m not playin, I want to bag ya punk
This is Hello Kitty bedspread satin funk
Mixed with Egyptian, with a little rappin pump
Zappin Eric Clapton, (Shaft?), Frank Zappa crunk
And yeah baby, I want another crack at ya
You can beat me with any spatula thatcha want
I mean I really want you bad you cunt
Nick you had your fun
I’ve come to kick you in your sack of junk
Man I could use a fresh batch of blood
So prepare your vernacular for Dracula acupunc-ture

Bagpipes from Baghdad
When will it ever cease, for Pete’s sake he’s crazy, to say the least
Bagpipes from Baghdad
What’s going through my mind half the time, when I rhyme, while blowing on my
Bagpipes from Baghdad
Somebody turn the vacancy sign on, ’cause I’m gone, blowing on my
Bagpipes from Baghdad
I run the streets and act like a madman, holding a glad-

You can be a permanent fixture
In my lyrical mixture
I’m the miracle whit trixter
My sig-nature sound, when the tube of lipstick’s around
I’m bound to put on in an instant, wow
Man what an ensemble, what an assortment of pharma
Ceuticals, it’s beautiful, pill dust in my palm, my
Cuticles get residue just from touching the bottle
Never knew I could remind me so much of my mama
I’ll cut you like Dahmer, pull a butcher knife on ya
The size of a sword boy, I’m like a fucken Red Sonia
Get it stuck in your cornea
Nice knowin ya Norman
You’re so fuckin’ annoyin
Drop the shovel boy, you don’t know what the fuck ya doin’
I ain’t playin’ no fuckin’ more
Nick Cannon you prick, I wish you luck with the fuckin whore
Every minute there’s a sucker born
Snuck up on Malachai and made the motherfucker suck on a shuck of corn
Shuck of, shuck of corn, shuck of corn
Hit Jason in the face with a hockey puck and told him it’s fucken on
What the fuck are you doin’
You’re runnin’ over the snow blower
With the lawnmower, blow on your
Bagpipes from Baghdad

Bagpipes from Baghdad
When will it ever cease, for Pete’s sake he’s crazy, to say the least
Bagpipes from Baghdad
What’s going through my mind half the time, when I rhyme, while blowing on my
Bagpipes from Baghdad
Somebody turn the vacancy sign on, ’cause I’m gone, blowing on my
Bagpipes from Baghdad
I run the streets and act like a madman, holding a glad-

In the bed with two braindead lesbian vegetables
I bet you they become heterosexual
Nothing will stop me from molesting you
Tittyfucking you til your breasticle
Flesh, tickles my testicles
Is what they said to the two conjoined twins
How’s it going girlfriends, you need a boyfriend
You need some ointment, just make an appointment
Who’s gonna see the doctor first, we’ll do a coin flip
I just got my one year sobriety coin chip
When the bad get going, how bad does the going get
Baby you shouldn’t have any trouble rubbing groins wit
Each other, especially when you’re joined at the hip
I’m going to get the needle, new thread from the sewing kit
An attempt to seperate em and stitch em back at the loin shit
Lured the little boy with the chocolate chips ahoy chip
Cookie, lookie even took me a polaroid, bitch

Bagpipes from Baghdad
When will it ever cease, for Pete’s sake he’s crazy, to say the least
Bagpipes from Baghdad
What’s going through my mind half the time, when I rhyme, while blowing on my
Bagpipes from Baghdad
Somebody turn the vacancy sign on, ’cause I’m gone, blowing on my
Bagpipes from Baghdad
I run the streets and act like a madman, holding a glad

Photo credit: Discogs

Lyrics added by Marse