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Coolio( Artis Leon Ivey Jr. )
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My Soul
Lyricist:Dom Aldridge, John Austin, Artis Ivey, Gino Vanelli
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 Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com 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
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