DJ Quik - Fandango

[10 second instrumental to open] [DJ Quik] You might find me in the Century Club Fresh kicks, fresh cut, pocket full of dubs Box of Altoids for my paranoid niggaz actin foul Stop smokin if you can't be proud Adult star night, not another bar fight Inglewood players actin right in the spotlight Me I'm righter than invisible set I'm visibly wet, slurrin and I'm lookin for my pet I pass to the massa with her whip on her, ask her If she sippin wit'cha bird, if she not we move past her And I ain't hatin I'm just diggin ya ass girl Is that the collagen shot, is that what'cha momma got? I'm so rugged, bullet wound in back of the axe handle blunt force trauma kinda tuggin And I ain't never been what the cat drug on B-Real Quik's to keep ya mean muggin California clownin, bounce to sundown In the moonlight groovin, trippin off the saloon fight We Fandango, the next day hangover got me feelin like I hit a train with my Range Rover [Chorus: B-Real] Feel free to lose your mind, let'cha brain go Fuck the tango do the Fandango Triple step, right left, then you let'cha dame go Spin around 'til you get a hangover Take your doo rag off, let your brain grow Fuck the tango do the Fandango Triple step, right left, then you let'cha man go Spin around 'til you get a hangover [B-Real] Watch me climb out the whip with the bird on my hip She wanna set it off in the club, don't trip We crack a bottle and all my fam take a sip Any haters wanna pop at the lip, we come equipped We get the paper and the savor the flavor but never forget about the haters who constantly imitate us Homey we creators and players and rhyme sayers for layers of words, let me say it in terms that you can understand So clearly, you feelin me fam? She's on the floor cause of my homey Quik man And she hits the mall but you don't really understand Yeah I seen it before but now it's gettin out of hand Mami's diggin for more, and she's posin for the cam Little beef got the dancefloor slammed No tango, straight Fandango Birds flock to us like heads to Kangols, c'mon [Chorus] [DJ Quik] I'm a master in disguise, movin swiftly to the thighs Move faster than me, then I recognize That I ain't really got nuttin to hide But the bratwurst skinny girl second, fat girls first And Compton is still on my mind I remember when we used to get scared when they got behind us One-time sayin they been tryin to find us But they got the wrong niggaz, never mind us My tongue tumbles like I'm bumblebee stung Rip out the stinger, you keep talkin shit I whip out the ringer How many times does it have to end right before 12:00 A.M., why you packin a Slim Jim? I gets down on the mic like I rode down on a bike Road rash, skin peelin tonight The club ain't never crackin 'til the haters be gone We need to build the eliminator hater light, and put it on 'em [Chorus]