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Текст песни Coolio - My Soul

Coolio - My Soul слова песни

*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-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 fo`Now I got dough and you got one night stands like gangsta, yoSee on the low it`s 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 Black`sI 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:Ain`t no tellinMost women are still waitin` and sellin`Most of my homies is ex-felons (Convicts)In two decades, rap went from Planet RockTo crack rock Now, everybody got a glockAnd it don`t stopTill another brother dropThat`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 escapeIt`s a small world, after all, you`re clausterphobic, you can`t breatheSo, store your ball like Christopher ReeveIt`s the hater in you that makes you criticize meCause if you handled your business then yo ass would seeNineteen-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 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 ain`t gon shootI seen a million rappers in the same Versace suitOr, the same pair of locs, that`s probably why you`re 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 I`m jackin`It`s theives in the area like aircraft carrier`sWe`re launchin` F-15`s And Anti-Wack Maf MachinesMichropone, sittin` on my vocal chordSendin` busta`s to the crossroads like Thuggish Ruggish BoneIt`s the C-O-O-L-I-O, well I, wont fold When I`m controllin` my soulChorus: Repeat 1 1/2 times

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