Video Jimmy Brian Y Mike V1 de Eminem 2024 Cristiana Lyrics

Eminem - Jimmy Brian Y Mike V1 Lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, woo, yeah
Fetch me a beer, 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

[Verse 1]
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?
Come on, 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 gеt 'em off," wait, you're breakin' his nеck (Alright)
You grab that end, dick, I'll grab this end
I told him not to lift when he sniffs, he don't listen

[Chorus]
(Chicka) Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky, and Mike
(Chicka) Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky, and Mike
(Ch—) Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky, and Mike
(Chicka) Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky, and Mike
[Verse 2]
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
Tom, 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 don't know, just use this XXL issue
Look at this house, who put this couch crooked?
Ow, stupid, you just stepped on my foot, now look it
It looks like I just stepped in a mud puddle
You fuckin' dick (I'm sorry), shut up, butthole
You prolly did it on purpose, you fuckin' drunk bastard
Here, take your keys, go cruisin' 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 that beer down, out
[Chorus]
(Chicka) Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike
(Chicka) Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike
(Ch-chicka) Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike
Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike