My story starts in old Baghdad,
when a golden lamp was unearthed by a fine young lad.
A lad in his name,
a stealer of tricks,
he examined the engraved Arabic hieroglyphics.
Rub it hard and make a wish.
Rub it hard and watch me grow.
Rub it hard and I will come to obey your every command you know.
He polished the lamp and a genie appeared,
swelling enormous muscles,
turban and a beard.
Scimitar,
radish, razor sharp and bright.
Gold and silver,
satins and silk,
sparkling in the night.
You are my master.
His deep voice boomed, tyrant mighty.
Position assumed.
I'm here to do your bidding my friend.
Call me anytime with the lamp,
just email and send.
Rub it hard and make a wish.
Rub it hard and watch me grow.
Rub it hard and I will come to obey your
every command you know.
Whippin' days the lad was a superstar,
famous and rich, in a Rolls-Royce car.
Cash chicks and smash hits,
a wicked cool rapper,
seen in clubs with fine ladies by every new snapper.
Scoring lines of drugs all over the charts,
owning banks and department stores and hundreds of tarps.
He was ruling the globe, a prince among men.
When he needed a lift,
he just polished the lamp again.
Rub it hard and make a wish.
Rub it hard and watch me grow.
Rub it hard and I will come to obey your every command you know.
But everything went wrong,
the stupid fool believed his own image.
He thought he was cool.
He passed out one night, he lost the lamp.
Now he's back on the streets, a penniless tramp.
Rub it hard and make a wish.
Rub it hard and watch me grow.
Rub it hard and I will come to obey your every command you know.
Rub it hard and make a wish.
Rub it hard and watch me grow.
Rub it hard and I will come to obey your every command you know.
Rub it hard and make a wish.
Rub it hard and watch me grow.
Rub it hard and I will come to obey your every command you know.