Tipsy ​clipping.

[Intro: Dialogue Sample]
"Thank you, my dear. Ahh. And an excellent vintage it is, too. But if you're implying that I'm tipsy, sir—"
"Oh, of course he's not."

[Verse 1: Daveed Diggs]
One, here come the two to the three to the four
Everybody wrecked out on the dance floor
Smelling like sex, tryna flex for the score
Go 'head and bring the bottle, you ain't even gotta pour
Neon lights is bright enough to make the eyes sore
DJ got 'em hype enough, they crying for morе
Crowd is turnt, they loud as fuck, the bass is like a roar
This finna bе the night, they can feel it in they core
Here come the three to the two to the one
When the speakers clip, shit sound like a gun
If the pussy don't pop, then it wasn't any fun
And if you ain't come with squat, prolly you better run
She in the mosh pit, going crazy with the scum
He in the stall, sick, vision hazy from the rum
If you make it out alive, bet your ears finna hum for a day and a half—now relax, have fun

[Chorus: Daveed Diggs]
Everybody in this bitch gettin' tipsy
(Everybody in this bitch gettin' tipsy)
Everybody in this bitch gettin' tipsy
(Everybody in this bitch gettin' tipsy)
Everybody in this bitch gettin' tipsy
(Everybody in this bitch gettin' tipsy)
Everybody in this bitch gettin' tipsy
(Everybody in this bitch gettin' tipsy)