[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]