Eminemmylou When Gram Met Eminem
I was at a party the other night Gram was in the corner strumming out of sight
Sitting in the dark in the shade of a tree guess who was there when he looked up
to see
Was a skinny guy standing by his feet shaking his fingers and nodding to the beat
And saying hey Gram, you’re not one of them, do you know who I am, I’m Eminem
I say we should get together right now and write us a rhyme that blows the whole
f*cking town
With my bad rhythms and your warm voice we’d sound like a jumper dunked in ice
And with Dr Dre and Elvis too we’d sound like a shit hot band that’s true
But who wants to be in any poxy band when we should create a brand new sound
That’s full on country with hip hop shit, we’ll get Emi to rap it and make it a hit
Who the bleep knows where we can go we could tour Ipswich, even Felixstowe
Just forget the hype and the cool fascists hell we could even get Johnny Cash in it
Whadya say Gram, are you coming wi’ me, and Gram pipes up out of his tree:
Out with the truckers and the kickers and the cowboy angels
And a good saloon in every single town
And I remember something you once told me
And I’ll be damned if it did not come true
Twenty thousand roads I went down, down, down
And they all led me straight back home to you
F*ck, don’t hark back to that country rhyme it won’t pay us a brass button dime
We gotta bring in a bass that rips off your face and a country growl that’s f*ckin’ ace
I’m talking chainsaws and a pretty face I mean Blue Ridge Virginia Pines headcase
Take me home, country roads, and I promise I won’t mention dosey do.
Hey Gram, I ain’t Eminemmylou she’ll sing with just about anyone too
Like Dr Dre, he’s a lowskirts an’ all, (Dr Dre): “Cut it out, I don’t like this country drawl”
Hey Dr Dre, you’re dull today it’s country rap, but it ain’t crap
It’s cowgirls wearing baseball caps and truckers by the name of Missy Lou
Wearing big chains, and crooning “F*ck you too” (country sound)
Cut it out Gram, cause I am whatever you say I am and now I’m a true old country fan,
And you’re still a truck store driving man who’s now in to rap and hip hop jam
I’ll bet you the radio won’t play this sham ‘cause this is too mindblowin’ man
All the rhythms are screwed, and the lyrics too I think we’ve cracked what we set
out to do
Out with the truckers and the kickers and the cowboy angels
And a good saloon in every single town
And I remember something you once told me
And I’ll be damned if it did not come true
Twenty thousand roads I went down, down, down
And they all led me straight back home to you
