Coolio - My Soul Lyrics
*violins and pianos are heard, tapping, and a conductor clearing hisThroat to signal that he is ready*Chorus:Soul-oul-oul-oul-oul-oul-oul (my soul, my soul)My soul-oul-oulMy soul-oul-oul (my soul)Soul-oul-oul-oul-oul-oul-oul (my soul)My soul-oul-oul (my soul)My soul-oul-oulVerse 1:You can try to throw salt, but I keep my game face onAnd the only thing on your mind is stalkin more digits than a telephoneMe and thirty-nine theives jumpin out of white hummerFrom compton (wooh-wooh-wooh), while your crew get dumb and dumberGrew up straight out of low cash like cb foNow I got dough and you got one night stands like gangsta, yoSee on the low its all gravyBut the threat of this new world order is about to drive me crazyAnd all you want is the lex and gold visaBomb singles and stackin your chips like pringlesWhile my rhymes jack for platinum plaquesQuicker than one time jack blacksI twist sacks and sip yacPlus, the invisible man got my back like a spineSo, why you all up in mine?Keep the money and the fame cause all I really wanna holdIs my artistic flavor and control of my soulChorusVerse 2:Aint no tellinMost women are still waitin and sellinMost of my homies is ex-felons (convicts)In two decades, rap went from planet rockTo crack rockNow, everybody got a glockAnd it dont stopTill another brother dropThats why I poured out a little drink for the homie pac (rest in peace)Whats a thin line between love and hate?A million dollars in the bank and you still cant escapeIts a small world, after all, youre clausterphobic, you cant breatheSo, store your ball like christopher reeveIts the hater in you that makes you criticize meCause if you handled your business then yo ass would seeNineteen-ninety-seven is still crackinIma get the ladies out their seat like this was a car jackinThey say the game is to be sold, not toldYou can keep your bankroll, I want control of my soulChorusVerse 3:My jaws flip across sixteen bars like dominique dawesBut without no flaws, never broke a m.c. lawSee, I was servin wack rappers at the schoolWhen bruce lee was scrappin with kareem abdulYou got into triple beams and guns you aint gon shootI seen a million rappers in the same versace suitOr, the same pair of locs, thats probably why youre brokeAnd your backstage and your ghetto pass got revokedScrappin or rappin what you want to happen?If I ever come up short you the first one Im jackinIts theives in the area like aircraft carriersWere launchin f-15sAnd anti-wack maf machinesMichropone, sittin on my vocal chordSendin bustas to the crossroads like thuggish ruggish boneIts the c-o-o-l-i-o, well i, wont foldWhen Im controllin my soulChorus: repeat 1 1/2 times
