Lyrics Packy – Type Nice
Text:
I pop the top off the drink of the night
If you’re not feeling it yet, you’re not drinkin’ it right
While you’re over there nursin’ it
I just killed mine, took this dude’s beat box, and threw a verse in it
Getting retardy, sippin’ Bacardi
Drinkin’ it faster than a Ferrari
Ain’t no controlling me, what are you Ari?
What am I Vince? Maybe Lombardi
‘Cause I be popping champagne like I’m winning the game
If you’re not on my team, you’ll be sorry
Where does my gang go? Any residence where the dr-drinks flow
Where the fine ass choes at and the wine flows at
Everybody knows that, girl, where your clothes at?
Oh, the wine’s kickin’ in, or it might be Heineken
She’s working that behind again, somebody should remind me that
I’m drunk!
‘Cause I might make some bad decisions
I can’t even see straight, I might need some supervision
Wave your hand up in my face and you won’t get no two for flinchin’
‘Cause I’m passed out
I’m not waking up, ain’t no point in pinchin’
See me on the town I bet I’m faded (faded, faded, faded)
Don’t hear my song at the club? They already played it (played it)
I-I-I-I’m feeling type nice
Drinks on the house, that’s the right price so
Gimme four of those, more dough to blow
And a couple more forties okay
I dr-dr-drink it like there’s no tomorrow
Ain’t no need to get the shot glasses, I drink it from the bottle, ah!
Straight from the bottle
To the bottom of the bottle
Act like you don’t know, how I got so throwed
I’m faded off the soco or it could be the Four Lokos though
Good thing I’m 21 now so the popo’s not gon’ get me
All I see is ho ho hoes, but they’re not sliding down the chimney
What is up with these, up with these, uppity choes
That are lookin’ for company
The night is y-y-young, and I ain’t done drinkin’ bottles of bubbly
By the time I am, any ugly girls’ll be lookin’ like at least 8’s
And they’re tryna get on, but since I’m a G
All they’re getting is a gee thanks
Back to my free dranks, I think I’m ready for another round
I do the home run, give her the runaround
She could give another dude brain, let him dumb her down
Old thirsty chick, I’m thirsty too, but for this liquor
You been lookin’ at that drink, so long, you got, a mental picture
Drink it up, and pass it, throw it back like it’s classic
Then throw it up like it’s nasty, we’re countin’ rounds like draftees
Don’t ask me if I’m hamskied, I drink whatever I damn please
I’m tryna find my damn keys, I’m drunk
See me on the town I bet I’m faded (faded, faded, faded)
Don’t hear my song at the club? They already played it (played it)
I-I-I-I’m feeling type nice
Drinks on the house, that’s the right price so
Gimme four of those, more dough to blow
And a couple more forties okay
I dr-dr-drink it like there’s no tomorrow
Ain’t no need to get the shot glasses, I drink it from the bottle, ah!
Straight from the bottle, ah! Straight from the bottle, ah!
Straight from the bottle
To the bottom of the bottle
Album
The Specktators – Familiar With Floss
