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[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]

[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]

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