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DJ Antoine, Тимати & Kalenna - Bravo Hits 73 - Welcome to St. Tropez
Bravo Hits 73
Disc 1
01. S & M
02. Yeah 3×
03. E.T.
04. Born This Way
05. Blow
06. Turn Around (5, 4, 3, 2, 1)
07. Till the World Ends
08. Hit the Lights
09. More
10. No Other One
11. Coming Home
12. Just Can’t Get Enough
13. Do It Like a Dude
14. Bass Down Low
15. I Wrote the Book
16. Girls Beautiful
17. Happiness
18. Who’s That Chick?
19. Bon, Bon
20. Sun Is Up
21. Welcome to St. Tropez
22. Strobo Pop
Disc 2
01. Grenade
02. Set Fire to the Rain
03. You and Me (In My Pocket)
04. Wonderland
05. Hollywood Tonight
06. Loving You Is Killing Me
07. A Night Like This
08. Over the Rainbow
09. I Do
10. Young Blood
11. Selfmachine
12. Taken by a Stranger
13. Kidz
14. F**kin’ Perfect
15. Snowflakes
16. Oh What a Night
17. Hollywood Hills
18. Still
19. Ist es wahr (Aim High)
20. Gebt alles
21. Wovon sollen wir träumen
Welcome to Saint-Tropez (oh, yeah)

Get fresh, gotta stay fly
Get the jet, I gotta stay high
High up like a la-la-la
Ain't nothin' here that my money can't buy
Dolce, Gucci and Louis V
Yacht so big I could live on the sea
You for real? You can't see me
In these Euro frames, the whole world change

Mad bitches, so much broads
Feel the life when I wanna fuck them all
Get mad brain in my very fast car
Ferrari V12, Maranello on my arm
Ladies can't resist the charm
Haters, kiss the ring of the Don
And we do this all day
Welcome to Saint-Tropez

Whoa, what a night
Too much money in the bank account
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez
Whoa, what a night
Spending money in a large amount
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez

Welcome to Saint-Tropez (oh, yeah)

We make money, money we spending
Get mad Henny, swimming in women
Imported linen, Egyptian cotton
The party just started, the party ain't stoppin'
Keep shit poppin', poppin' these bottles
Haters keep hatin', fuckin' these models
So much money like we own the lotto
Pull up to a club in a white Murciélago

He don't make dollars, he don't make cents
He don't make you rich, he don't mean shit, shit
We the shit
I mean how much better can it get?
Harleys, Maseratis, Gallardos
We make too much dough
And we spend it all day
Welcome to Saint-Tropez (oh, yeah)

Whoa, what a night
Too much money in the bank account
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez
Whoa, what a night
Too much money in the bank account
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez

Whoa, what a night
Spending money in a large amount
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez
Whoa, what a night
Spending money in a large amount
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez

Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, all the way from Moscow, Russia
Give a warm welcome for heavyweight rap champion B Smooth the Groove
So make some noise for the one and only Mr. Black Star

Get it up, don't stop your body
Come on, ladies, let's get naughty
Get it up, now everybody
Come on, girls, here comes the daddy
Get it up, don't stop your body
Get it up, again your body
Get it up, now everybody
Get it up for music

Whoa, what a night
Too much money in the bank account
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez
Whoa, what a night
Too much money in the bank account
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez

Whoa, what a night
Spending money in a large amount
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez
Whoa, what a night
Spending money in a large amount
Hands in the air, make you scream and shout
When we're in Saint-Tropez

Welcome to Saint-Tropez