Coolio

*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