Intro
Its music to my ears... How can I describe the way it feels? It's fucking great man! O.k., let me see, how can I begin?
Verse 1
Locked in Mariah's wine cellar all I had for lunch
was bread wine, more bread wine and Captain Crunch
red wine for breakfast and for brunch
and to soak it up and in between snack crackers to munch
Mariah whatever happened to us?
Why did we have to break up? All I asked for was a glass of punch
you see I never really asked for much, I can't imagine what's
going through your mind after such
a nasty break up with that Latin hunk
Luis Miguel, Nick Cannon better back the fuck
up I'm not playin' I want her back ya punk
this is Hello Kitty bedspread satin funk
mixed with Egyptian, with a little rap and punk
Zapp and Eric Clapton, Shaft, Frank Zappa, crunk
and yeah ba-by I want another crack at ya
you can beat me with any spatula that ya want
I mean I really want ya bad ya 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
Chorus
Bagpipes from Baghdad
when will it ever cease? For Pete sakes 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 bag
Verse 2
You can be a permanent fixture, in my lyrical mixture
I'm the Miracle Whip trickster my signature
sound, when a tube of lipstick around
I'm bound to put it on in an instant wow
man, what an ensemble, what an assortment of pharma-
ceuticals this beautiful pill dust in my palm my
cuticles get residue just from touchin' the bottle
never knew I could remind me so much of my mama
I'll cut ya like Dahmer, pull a butcher knife on ya
the size of a sword, boy I'm like the fuckin' Red Sonja
get it stuck in your cornea, nice knowing ya, Norman
your so fucking annoyin' drop the shovel boy, you don't know what fuck your doing
I ain't playin' no fuckin' more
Nick Cannon ya prick I wish ya luck with the fuckin' whore, every minute there's a sucker born
snuck up on Malachi
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 fucking on
man what the fuck are ya doin'?
Your running over the snow blower with the lawn mower
blow on your bagpipes from Baghdad
Chorus
Verse 3
In the bed with two brain dead lesbian vegetables
I bet you they become heterosexual
nothing will stop me from molestin' you
titty fuckin' you till your breast nipple flesh tickles my testicles
is what I said, to the two conjoined twins
how's it going girlfriends? You need a boyfriend?
You need some ointment? Just set up an appointment
whose 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 with
each other especially when your joined at the hip
I'm going to get a needle and thread from the sewing kit
and attempt to separate 'em and stitch them back at the loin, shit
lure the little boy with the chocolate Chips Ahoy chip
cookie, lookie, even took me a Polaroid flick
Chorus