Yeah, woo, yeah
That's the idea, man
The fuckin' Red Wings are playin'
Ayy, the fuckin' Red Wings are playin', man
Fuck, shut up, man, you're gonna fuckin' make me miss the game

It goes, one, two, three, four
Rush room, C4
Need more bleach, breathe more (yo, I said)
Reach for ether, either or (either one)
Marcus paint, inhale, faint
Yeah, heh-heh, heh-heh, smells great, heh-heh (whoa)
Acid, you don't got that? Just melt plastic
That's it, now let it smoke and smell that shit
I can't see shit, you're foggin' up the room
Gimme that shit, bitch, you're hoggin' the balloon (hey)
I might just suck nitrous all night long
If I just die, Mike, just call my mom (9-1-1)
Greg can drink a whole keg through a funnel
Put his foot through it and crawl in it like a tunnel
From the 3-1-3 to the 8-1-0
Hey Brian, you ain't coverin' the rush hole
You're not doin' it right, pay attention
Who the fuck taught you to smoke, Bill Clinton?
C'mon, inhale, puff, pass, puff, pass, okay, that's enough, damn
Tom, that's my mom's lamp, goddamn, dude, fuckin' calm down (sorry)
Look at you guys, you're makin' a mess, where's Jason?
"Dude, I'm in the basement with Jeff
He just dropped a bunch of weights on his chest
Help me get 'em off," wait, you're breakin' his neck (alright)
You grab that end, dick, I'll grab this end
I told him not to lift when he sniffs, he don't listen

Get me drunk, let me go and get me high tonight
Jimmy, no, Jimmy don't let me die tonight
Get me home, Jimmy, don't let me drive tonight
I just wanna get blown with Brian and Mike
Get me drunk, let me go and get me high tonight
Jimmy, no, Jimmy don't let me die tonight
Get me home, Jimmy, don't let me drive tonight
I just wanna get blown with Brian and Mike

Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike
Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike
Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike
Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike

I spilled beer on the carpet, the walls are drunk, you asshole
I ain't leanin' on 'em, I'm holdin' 'em up
Shit, tonight, man, I ain't holdin' 'em up
I'm openin' up shop to the cops and closin' it shut
Nineteen shots might seem like a lot, but it's not
I ain't even buzzin', man, I swear to God
Clown, stop, you're gonna scare the dog
He's gonna bark and Mr. Johnson's gonna come downstairs, and, ugh
"Hey, I want some peace and quiet here
Or I'ma send the goddamn police in riot gear"
Shut up Mr. Johnson, don't even start
Go have another fuckin' heart attack, you old fart
I hate that guy, Brian, that's the hamper
What's the matter, you can't go to the damn bathroom?
"Sorry, I had to shit, dude, where's the tissue?"
I dunno, just use this XXL issue
Look at this house, who put this couch crooked?
Ow, stupid, you just stepped on my foot, now look at
It looks like I just stepped in a mud puddle, you fuckin' dick (I'm sorry)
Shut up, butthole, you probably did it on purpose
You fuckin' drunk bastard
Here, take your keys, go boozin' up Gratiot
I hate you guys, you ain't my friends
Look what you just did to my mom's eight by tens
Now she's gonna blame me, I hope you're happy now
Party's over, everybody get your asses out
Out, I said out, put the beer down, out

Get me drunk, let me go and get me high tonight
Jimmy, no, Jimmy don't let me die tonight
Get me home, Jimmy, don't let me drive tonight
I just wanna get blown with Brian and Mike
Get me drunk, let me go and get me high tonight
Jimmy, no, Jimmy don't let me die tonight
Get me home, Jimmy, don't let me drive tonight
I just wanna get blown with Brian and Mike

Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike
Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike
Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike
Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike Writer/s: Marshall B. III Mathers
Publisher: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind