My Soul Lyrics - My Soul - Coolio

Soul 

My soul 

My soul 

Soul 

My soul 

My soul 

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 thieves jumpin' out of white Hummer 

From Compton, 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 

Soul 

My soul 

My soul 

Soul 

My soul 

My soul 

Ain't no tellin', most women are still waitin' and sellin' 

Most of my homies is ex-felons 

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 

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 claustrophobic, 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' 

And 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 

Soul 

My soul 

My soul 

Soul 

My soul 

My soul 

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 thieves 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, won't fold 

When I'm controllin' my soul 

Soul 

My soul 

My soul 

Soul 

My soul 

My soul 

Soul 

My soul 

My soul