Featured In
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
P!nk
Vocals
Eminem
Vocals
E. Alcock
Guitar
Chin Injeti
Bass
Danny Keyz
Keyboards
DJ Khalil
Keyboards
Liz Rodrigues
Background Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
E. Alcock
Songwriter
Khalil Abdul‐Rahman
Songwriter
P. Injeti
Songwriter
Liz Rodrigues
Songwriter
Marshall Mathers
Songwriter
Alecia Moore
Songwriter
Jon Brown
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Chin Injeti
Producer
DJ Khalil
Producer
Mike Strange
Vocal Recording Engineer
Tony Maserati
Mixing Engineer
Justin Hergett
Assistant Mixing Engineer
James Krausse
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Jon Brown
Additional Producer
P!nk
Executive Producer
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Here comes, comes the weekend
Hear it callin' like a siren, oh-oh, oh-oh
We don’t want no problems
We don’t like them (No), keep it movin'
[Verse 2]
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
[Verse 3]
I just wanna play, big city holiday
So get out of my way
If you know what’s better for ya (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
[Verse 4]
I’m tearin' up the night, lipstick and leather tight
Not lookin' for a fight, no (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
High heels and cherry wine, not wastin' any time
We’re tickin' like a bomb, about to blow (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
[Verse 5]
Here comes, comes the weekend (Yeah, yeah)
Hear it callin' like a siren, oh-oh, oh-oh
We don’t look for trouble
Just enough to see in double
[Verse 6]
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
[Verse 7]
Drink some pink champagne
I don’t know you yet, but we’ll forget
So, fuck what they say
Let the rum flow until it rains (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
[Verse 8]
I’m tearing up the night, lipstick and leather tight
Not lookin' for a fight, no (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
High heels and cherry wine, not wastin' any time
We’re ticking like a bomb, about to blow, oh-oh, oh-oh
[Verse 9]
Here comes, comes the weekend
Hear it callin' like a siren, oh-oh, oh-oh
We don't look for trouble
Just enough to see in double (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
[Verse 10]
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
[Verse 11]
Nothing high class in my glass, only bottles I pop
Are bottles of pop, so when I pop up in the spot
I'm probably not gonna be wantin’ to pop bubbly
Or Ciroc, I’m not Puffy, but I’ma run this city tonight
When I hit it, I might act like a frickin’ idiot
Diddy mixed with a medieval knight, big city lights
Little indignity, hot diggity, this Biggie is gettin’ me hype
[Verse 12]
I don’t get some liquor, I’ll hurt you, I’ll knock your dick in the dirt
Bickerin’ worse than that bitch in that Snickers commercial
A mixture of Stifler and Urkel, hangin’ from the light fixture
I hope you pricks are insured for this buildin’
'Cause we’re tearin’ it down, security get out
The frickin’ way, Jesus Christ, son the blaring is loud
I swear the only thing I hear is the sound
Of sirens goin’ eereer 'cause
[Verse 13]
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
[Verse 14]
(Oh-oh, oh-oh)
[Verse 15]
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
Here comes the weekend
Set off your sirens (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
Written by: E. Alcock, Jonathon Keith Brown, Khalil Abdul‐Rahman, Liz Rodrigues, Marshall Mathers, P!nk, P. Injeti