My name's Bad Saddam an’ ah loves to rap
Lotsa mofo’s say that it’s mostly crap.
But ah don’ care a share, don’t give a damn,
I keeps on frimmin’ on de frim-fram and jammin wif’ de jim-jam.
Only time ah don’ rap is when ah gots to take a nap.
Or when my keeper, Mom the sweeper, yells, “Shut up, you little #+&!! sap!”

Now ah sometime gots love on the beanie and think ah’m a keenie
but truth be told, ah’m sort of a weenie, ‘fraid to go out and walk about,
mah ride’s bullet proof an’ ah gots snipers on de roof
but ah’ll keep shuckin’ jive, five by five
as long as ah’m breathin’ and still alive
and if you can’t get hip, you drip, then you’re a real meanie
Yeah ah’m real cool, ain’t no fool, I’m a hoppin’ an’ a boppin’ until ah’m droppin’.
Don’t dig mah action? Yo’ mus' be fom de Great Satan’s faction,
Foget you, too, get a friggin’ clue, go an’ cry yosef a big boo-hoo,
‘cause Allah knows, if it rains or snows, ah’m nevah, evah stoppin’.

Don’t got nobody close, ain’t even got no ho,
chicks around here don’t like me no mo.
But ah gots me some doubles to field mah troubles
an’ lotsa bodyguards in my many palace yards.
An’ ah got lotsa bread, but them bitches still cut me dead
So ah keeps timin’ wif’ mah rhymin’ but ain’t bustin’ no hymen,
so ah gots me a drawer with a sock, an’ ah keeps it under lock
Don’t eyeball me like that, it ain’t no crock, got no action like a real shock jock.
Even called ol’ Howard, you know, the coward,
ol’Stern don’t learn, won’t gimme no turn,
set me up wif’ some booty, even boys if dey’s fruity
Called Anna Nicole, jus’ wanted a roll,
but she shined me on, guess de thrill's all gone.
But ah still gots me a good job, makin’ mothahs sob.

You see, wif’ me, it’s all a degree of givin’ families a life of misery.
So ah keeps all de wealth at the risk of mah health
And makes damn fo’ sho’ nobody likes me.
Was a news dude dissed me othah day, decided ah was gonna make ‘im pay
Tol’ ‘im gonna give you a medal if you come on down, so ah had ‘im picked up an’ brought to town
Gathered all mah subjects in the central square, had evah stupid towelhead watchin’ theah
He done come up on the stage lookin’ kinda nervous, so ah tol’ ‘im he’d done me a real big service
Beheaded that fool wif’ jus’ one stroke, hey, screw the dumb shit if he can’t take a joke.

Got the blues? Bad news. So what if mah poems and tomes make you snooze,
not gonna stop ‘til ah drop, gonna set up shop, so guess what, you all still lose.
Hard to take? For Ghandi’s sake, cut some slack to dis heah psycho flake.
And if it helps you whelps, chug yo' some serious booze in ones and twos.

You may not dig what ah’m puttin’ down
and think ah’m the most annoyin’ dude in town
But ah’m just a good ol’ boy from Bagdad State
an’ among mah hand-picked peers ah really rate.
Ah gots a Jones for yo’ bones ah gotta satiate.
So read mah shit and absorb all a’ it before ah gets sore and it gets too late.

Yeah, gird yo’ skinny loins and take yo’ toins
tryin’ to cut my butt with rankin’ and smut
Don’t care one damn share if yo’say it ain’t fair, gonna keep on bein’ a mean mother bear
churnin’ out funk from my trunk full’a unpublished junk
an' scarin' folks wif' mah jokes, like hangin' dudes and liberty prudes.
Ah, hell, pardon me, but ah gots to pee, but ah’ll be back Jack, jus' to get even, Steven, just yo' all wait and see.
An’ this’ll curl yo’ toes as ah close, an' add with aplomb,
remembah, evil infidels, ah mebbe gots de Bomb.
*********************

Original lyrics by Barbara Streisand, music by John Tesh, produced by Spike Lee, directed by Phil Donohue. Western version release available on CD from Time-Life Warner, performed by Pat Boone and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.