Bagpipes From Baghdad
Lyrics Eminem

[Intro: Eminem]
Oh, it's music to my ears... oh man!
How can I describe the way I feel? F*cking great man!
Ok, let me see
How can I begin?

[Verse 1]
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 an 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 f*ck
Up, I'm not playin', I want her back, you punk
This is Hello Kitty bedspread satin funk
Mixed with Egyptian with a little rap and punk
Zepp' and Eric Clapton, Shaft, Frank Zappa, crunk
And yeah baby I want another crack at ya
You can beat me with any spatula that you 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 acupuncture

Bagpipes from Baghdad
When will it ever cease
For Pete's sakes he's crazy to say the least
Bagpipes from Baghdad
What's goin through my mind
Half the time when I rhyme we're blowin up like
Bagpipes from Baghdad
Somebody turn the vacancy sign on
Cause I'm gone, blowing up my
Bagpipes from Baghdad
I run the streets and act
Like a madman holdin a glad bag

[Verse 2]
You can be a permanent fixture in my lyrical mixture
I'm the miracle whip... trickster
My sig-nature sound when a tube of lipstick's 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 momma
I'll cut ya like Dahmer, pull the butcher knife on ya
The size of a sword boy I'm like the f*ckin red Sonja
Get it stuck in your cornea, nice knowin ya Norman
Your so f*ckin annoyin, drop the shovel boy
You don't know what the f*ck you're doin
I ain't playin no f*ckin more
Nick Cannon you prick I wish you luck with the f*ckin whore
Every minute there's a sucker born, snuck up on
Malachi made the motherf*cker suck on a shuck of corn
Chaka, Chaka Khan, Chaka Kahn
Hit Jason in the face with a hockey puck and tell em it's f*ckin on
Man what the f*ck are ya doin
You're runnin over the snow-blower with the lawnmower
Blowin your bagpipes from Baghdad


[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-f*ckin' you til' your breast nipple 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 set up 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 goin, how bad does the going get
Baby you shouldn't have any trouble rubbin groins wit
Each other especially when you're joined at the hip
I'm going to get the needle and thread from the sewing kit
An attempt to separate 'em and stitch 'em back at the loin sh*t
Lure the little boy with the chocolate chips ahoy! chip-
Cookie lookie even took me a Polaroid flick


[Outro x4]

Song facts

Bagpipes from Baghdad is a slight dis on Nick Cannon, although isn't aimed completely at him, but more so at his lasting lust for Mariah Carey

The song does of course have a familiar theme of murder and drugs, a stable staple in Em's works. This song is sang in a middle-eastern accent during the hook and at times in the chorus.


Appears on