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Black Summer Party: Best Of, Vol. 4
Disc 1
01. The Sweet Escape
02. Give It to Me
03. Because of You
04. Promiscuous
05. Ridin’
06. Smack That
07. Buttons
08. You Know I’m No Good
09. It’s Okay (One Blood)
10. Chain Hang Low
11. That’s That Shit
12. Like a Boy
13. Window Shopper
14. Touch It
15. Put It Down
16. Fergalicious
17. Boogie 2nite
18. Hit Me Up
19. Hip Hop Is Dead
20. Louder
Disc 2
01. Unfaithful
02. Save Room
03. Anonymous
04. Rush the Floor
05. Say I
06. Hands Up
07. No Diggity
08. The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)
09. E.I.
10. Area Codes
11. Joints & Jam
12. Mr. Wendal
13. My Band
14. Guilty Conscience
15. Gin and Juice
16. Wanted Dead or Alive
17. Mama Said Knock You Out
18. O.P.P.
19. Push It
Dre, I see dead people!

Modern vampires of the city
HUNTING BLOOD

BLOOOOOOD BLUH-UD
Yo Dre, thought I was dead
West Coast...

I'm the Doctor's Advocate
Nigga, Dre shot ya
Brought me back from the dead
That's why they call him the doctor
The 'Math gon' drop him, and 50 ain't rockin with him no more
It's OK, I get it poppin'
Whole club rockin like a '64 Impala
Drink Cris, throw it up, call the shit hydraulics
Then piss in the cup, call the shit hypnotic
I bleed Compton, spit crack and shit chronic
And you new niggas ain't shit but new niggas
Bathin' Ape shoe niggas,
I'm talkin' to YOU, nigga
Bounce in a '64, throwin up West Side, man
Sell another five million albums, yes I am
Fresh like, Damn, this nigga did it again
A hundred thousand on his neck
LA above the brim,

Inside the Lambo, shotgun with Snoop,

What would the mothafuckin West Coast be without one crip and
One Blood, One Blood, One Blood

Blood

One Blood
I'm from the West Side of the '64 Impala
When niggas say where you from, we don't never say holla
Bandana on the right side, gun on the left side
Niggas in New York know how to throw up the West Side
Word to Eazy, I'm so ill, believe me
I made room for Jeezy,
But the rest of you niggas better be glad you breathin
All I need is one reason
I'm the king and Dre said it, the West Coast need me
I don't know why you niggas keep tryin me
Everybody know that I'm the heir to the Aftermath dynasty

And I ain't gotta make shit for the club

What DJ gon' turn down the 38 snub?
You 38 and you still rappin? Ugh
I'm 26, nigga, so is the dubs
On the '07 Hummer, hop out, no bodyguards

When the chronic smoke clear, all you gon' see is

One Blood, One Blood, One Blood
Blood
One Blood
I ain't got beef with 50
No beef with Jay
What's beef when you gettin' head in a six tre
And the double Game chains? I keep 'em on display
Black t-shirts so all you see is the A
Turn on the TV and all you see is the A
You niggas better make up a dance, try to get radio play
Keep on snappin your fingers I ain't goin' away

I don't regret what I spit 'cause I know what I say
And niggas keep talkin about me, they don't know when to stop
I got the Louis Vuitton belt buckle holdin' the glock
No beam, no silencer, I know when to pop
Wait till Lil Jon come on and let off a shot
I had the number one Billboard spot
Niggas stepped on my fingers and I climbed right back to the top
I'm Big, I'm Cube, I'm Nas, I'm Pac,
This ain't shit but a warnin' till my album drop
One Blood, One Blood, One Blood
Blood
One Blood