Текст песни My Soul - Coolio
Soul-oul-oul-oul-oul
(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
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
Soul-oul-oul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
Soul-oul-oul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
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
Soul-oul-oul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
Soul-oul-oul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
My
soul-oul-oul
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
Soul-oul-oul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
Soul-oul-oul-oul-oul
(My
soul)
My
soul-oul-oul
My
soul-oul-oul
Soul-oul-oul-oul
My
soul-oul-oul
My
soul-oul-oul
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