Coolio – My Soul lyrics

Violins*and pianos are heard tapping and a conductor clearing his Throat
to signal that he is ready Chorus*
Soul:
oul oul oul oul oul oul (My soul my soul) My
soul oul oul My
soul oul oul (My soul) Soul
oul oul oul oul oul oul (My soul) My
soul oul oul (My soul) My
soul oul oul Verse
1 You:
can try to throw salt but I keep my game face on And
the only thing on your mind is stalkin' more digits than a Telephone
Me
and thirty-nine theives jumpin' out of white Hummer From
Compton (Wooh-wooh-wooh) while, your crew get dumb and dumber Grew
up straight out of low cash like CB fo' Now
I got dough and you got one night stands like gangsta yo, See
on the low it's all gravy But
the threat of this new world order is about to drive me crazy And
all you want is the Lex and gold Visa Bomb
singles and stackin' your chips like Pringles While
my rhymes jack for platinum plaques Quicker
than one time Jack Black's I
twist sacks and sip yac Plus
the, Invisible Man got my back like a spine So
why, you all up in mine Keep?
the money and the fame cause all I really wanna hold Is
my artistic flavor and control of my soul Chorus
Verse
2 Ain't:
no tellin Most
women are still waitin' and sellin' Most
of my homies is ex-felons (Convicts) In
two decades rap, went from Planet Rock To
crack rock Now
everybody, got a glock And
it don't stop Till
another brother drop That's
why I poured out a little drink for the homie Pac (Rest In Peace)
What's
a thin line between love and hate A?
million dollars in the bank and you still can't escape It's
a small world after, all you're, clausterphobic you, can't Breathe
So
store, your ball like Christopher Reeve It's
the hater in you that makes you criticize me Cause
if you handled your business then yo ass would see Nineteen-ninety-seven
is still crackin' I'ma
get the ladies out their seat like this was a car jackin' They
say the game is to be sold not, told You
can keep your bankroll I, want control of my soul Chorus
Verse
3 My:
jaws flip across sixteen bars like Dominique Dawes But
without no flaws never, broke a m c.law. See
I, was servin' wack rappers at the school When
Bruce Lee was scrappin' with Kareem Abdul You
got into triple beams and guns you ain't gon shoot I
seen a million rappers in the same Versace suit Or
the, same pair of locs that's, probably why you're broke And
your backstage and your ghetto pass got revoked Scrappin'
or rappin' what you want to happen If?
I ever come up short you the first one I'm jackin' It's
theives in the area like aircraft carrier's We're
launchin' F-15's And
Anti-Wack Maf Machines Michropone
sittin', on my vocal chord Sendin'
busta's to the crossroads like Thuggish Ruggish Bone It's
the C-O-O-L-I-O well, I wont, fold When
I'm controllin' my soul Chorus
Repeat: 1 1/2 times