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
 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
 Chorus
 Verse 3:
 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
 Chorus: Repeat 1 1/2 times