paroles de chanson Fandango - DJ Quik Featuring B-Real
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
in
Be
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
Feel
free
to
lose
your
mind,
let
your
brain
go
Fuck
the
tango,
do
the
fandango
Triple
step,
right
left,
then
you
let
your
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
your
man
go
Spin
around
′til
you
get
a
hangover
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
Mommy's
diggin′
for
more
and
she′s
posin'
for
the
cam
Little
beef
got
the
dance
floor
slammed
No
tango,
straight
fandango
Birds
flock
to
us
like
heads
to
Kangols,
c′mon
Feel
free
to
lose
your
mind,
let
your
brain
go
Fuck
the
tango,
do
the
fandango
Triple
step,
right
left,
then
you
let
your
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
your
man
go
Spin
around
′til
you
get
a
hangover
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
Feel
free
to
lose
your
mind,
let
your
brain
go
Fuck
the
tango,
do
the
fandango
Triple
step,
right
left,
then
you
let
your
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
your
man
go
Spin
around
′til
you
get
a
hangover
1 Terrorist Homesteader
2 Total Auto
3 Loked Out Hood
4 Loked Out Hood
5 Easier Said Than Done
6 Sweet Black Pussy
7 Skanless
8 Skanless
9 The Maze
10 Tonite
11 Dollaz + Sense
12 Does the Goodlife Exist
13 Pitch In OnA Party
14 Droopy Jr.
15 Total Auto Instrumental
16 Doughe
17 Westside Radio Interview
18 Fandango
19 Fandango
20 Outro
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