Essential Collection

*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 thieves 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 want to 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 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 see-O-O-L-I-O, well I, won't fold
When I'm controllin' my soul

Chorus: Repeat 1 1/2 times

Verse 1:

I know a place where the trees don't grow
Just another place where niggaz live low
I know a place where life is fucked up
Make a wrong move and your ass get stuck up
Time ain't nothin but a frame of mind
And life is like a mountain or a steep ass climb
I've been lookin for a place to leave
The only free place is inside of me
So let's take a trip, and you don't need a grip
But you better be equipped cause it might be some shit
African-American, nothin but a nigga
Had our fingers on the trigger, but I pulled mine quicker
I know a place where there ain't no calm and
You better stay away if you're soft like Charmin
South Central, Los Angeles, Watts, and Compton
A nigga on the west coast on his way to Harlem

Verse 2:

Now it's time to step into the light (Light)
Put up your dukes, there's gonna be a fight (Fight)
And when it's time to fight, you better fight right
Cause if it don't fight right, out goes the light
Take a close look at what I'm freakin on
Niggaz think I'm tweekin, but I'm speakin on
Subject matter, data
Information that I gather
Through my travels
Cause the hardest of the hard, hit hardcore killer
Can't stop the slug of a nine millimeter
Everybody thinks they know, but they know not
If they haven't caught a cap on the block *gunshot*
So shine up your boots and pick up the pieces
Grab a fresh pair of khakis with the sharp ass creases
Ring the alarm, here comes the storm
I got a firearm on my way to Harlem

Verse 3:

I know a place where the sun don't shine
Everybody is a victim of neighborhood crime
I know a place where niggaz walk the line
One false step and they must do time
Since I'm in the same boat
I must stay afloat
And sing every note
From the quotes that they wrote
So, I look into the past and walk the path of the greats
So I won't make the same mistakes that sealed my ancestors fates
If I had to be a slave I'd rather be in my grave
If I get in how many lives could I save?
One, two, three, a hundred, a thousand
My heart is poundin, the devil keeps soundin
But he don't want my money, he wants my soul
So I reach like a tree, and like a weed I grow
My stomach is full, but my mind is starvin
Rollin in a g ride on my way to Harlem

Back in the days when I was a young buck
Stuck like a truck gettin shit outta luck
Times was rough and I didn't have a plan
I was barely on the edge of my life as a man
It's really fucked up when there's dope in the crib
No food in the kitchen for the motherfuckin kids
That's why a young nigga learned how to steal,see
Shopliftin laid me a whole lotta meals
But I remember days when the cupboard was bare and
Life was unfair but who the fuck cares?
I still hear Momma,what she used to tell me
That you don't get shit in this life for free
And even if I never ever make it to the mountain top
Fuck it!I fight for my hip-hop
Not everybody can relate to what I been through
Even though some front and they try to pretend to
Know about the life of a kid and the strife
Where he has to live in the shadow of a base-pipe
Good goes to bad,bad goes to worse
And pretty soon he's stealin from his own Momma's purse
So clean out ya ears and open up your eyes
I reach out to touch but somebody moved the sky
My stomach is growlin,word is born
'cause all I had for dinner was a can-o-corn

BRIDGE
A can-o-corn,a can-o-corn
All I had for dinner was a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn,a can-o-corn
Before I went to school I had a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn,a can-o-corn
I tried to get full off a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn,a can-o-corn
That's all the fuck that we had in the kitchen

A few years later,I pledge a legions to the set
I'm growin up but I ain't grown yet
It's funny how the strain in a life filled with pain
Can sometimes leave a bitch stained on the brain
I'm sittin in the restaurant,guardin my food like a eagle
Pickin up scraps like a seagull
Waitin on the people at the next table to leave a tip
So I can put it in my pocket
Phoney Easter Bunny,Santa Claus and the stork
We was poor as fuck so we ate a lot of pork
And it ain't no motherfuckin way no how
When it come up I let you bring me down
So I stick to the boots and I'm down with a MAAD group
Of gangstas and hoodlums,but you can call em 'scroops'
Give me liberty or give me death
'cause a man without pride ain't got shit left,huh
And now that I'm older with kids of my own
I put me in the pot where it used to be a bone
Get'cha self together,word is born
'cause a man can't live on a can-o-corn

Now I didn't use the word bitch a few times in a rhyme, but
Now it's '95 so let me drop a line
This goes out to the young black queens
On the neighborhood scene
Who haven't lost their dream
I know sometimes it seems like it ain't no love
And to get where you go ya got to push an' shove
Around the way girl with hope in your heart
Do his five in the purse an' five in the start
She's the kinda woman ya take home to momma
The only kind you ever let get past the drama
Coolio know that you ain't no ho
And it's time to put you up on a pedestal seat
Queen of the entire universe
And you know how I know that you were put here first
An' to every nigga that dissed ya an' every nigga that hit ya
Accept my apologies for my brothaz....



(Chorus)
My...sista...
Give it up for my sistas
Give it up for my sistas
Give it up for my sistas
You're all I need...



Princess of the Nile
An' sweet black sexy child
Ooh I like your style, huh
First motha on the planet
I know it's gettin' scary
And all these wannabe pimps is all that ya meet
But ya gotta shake 'em off like fleas an' nigga meat
And use your God-given talents and abilities
No matta where ya from ya get much respect
From the top of your neck to your county check
I see ya waitin' for the bus in the early morn
Brick house with a face like Leena Horne
I ain't no cap to save a ho
But I got your front
An' your side an' your back if that's what ya want
So when it's time to put it down I won't be runnin'
Ya got a dear lil' somethin' like Harriet Tubmanm, huh
No matta what ya do or where ya go
Ya got love from a nigga named Coolio....



-Chorus-



Hernie Dipp got the lips, finga tips, and the hips
Ta make mice outa the crazy-ass Bloodz and Crypts
Make a nigga sing a song all night long
Til' his voice is gone
Wit' no music on
You can be a busta on a hardass low
An' should be down wit' your ass when your poor and broke
And um uh
Every time ya need I'll owe ya
Gotta do is make a phone call, 'cause
When ya say 'come' ya know she's on her way
Wit' no hesitance
An' any type of the leg
I talk about my granny
Batana, an' Vanita
Jacki an' Nicole an' Grandy an' Artisha
I gots to give credit where credit is due
An' all credit that is credited is credit to you
I give praise to your wayz
An' for all my day
Apologies much respect to the sons I raise....



-Chorus(extended)-

Uh! Yeah! What Up?

Verse 1:
I know y'all want to take me down
I know y'all want to see me get clowned
I know y'all want to take my sound
And put a nigga like me in the lost and found
But I refuse to fade
I'll stay this way
Spreadin venom in the mic till I'm old and gray
And now niggaz want to attack me
Flip-flop and back me
But fool you's a mackey
I'll starch your ass like some khakis
Your shit is tacky and you better play the backwoods
Me and my crew will use your cd for a hackey sack
Imagine that
And it shouldn't be hard
Cause your style ain't large
And you want to make all the profits with crowbars
Can you Dig It?
When nothin can save it
Shock your ass like a phaser
Burn and cut like a laser
Amaze you, with this flava
I run with a pack of tennis shoe playa's

Chorus:
Can you Dig It? *singing* Can you Dig It?
Can you Dig It?

Can you Dig It? *singing* Can you Dig It?
Can you Dig It?

Verse 2:
The first law of age is called survival
That's why I'm deadly on revival
And it's vital
To my basic instinct
That all wack mc's become extinct
Because we on the brink
Or, should I say the edge
Like a schizsophrenic with seventeen personalities walkin on a ledge
Then you can't see the black cause it's blocked by the blue and the red
U.F.O.'s
And scandalous ass hoes
Waist deep in the shit, it's still smellin' like a rose
And I suppose
You want me to play superstar
And when I see you on the street act like I don't know who you are
So, you can run back and tell that
But I won't do that
So, fool you can chew that
To all sucka mc's you better beware
I been conjurin up forces way back in my lair
And my crew don't scare
And we don't care
We act, we wear, I swear

Chorus

Verse 3:
It's the thrilla
Straight outta Compton, not Manilla
Got a chokehold on the mic like I was M.C. Gorilla
Take this to the heart for real a
Don't you ever try to steal a
Like AIDS this shit came like gin a
Might fuck up your liva
Call me Pharoh cause I'm floatin bustas up the river
When I deliver
Make your sister and your grandma shiver
Top feelin steadily rakin up the scrilla
Kickin back in my easy chair sippin on some Henna
?Exol? cause my whole crew is locin
And fools always tryin to fix shit that ain't broken
I'm down with pixies so you don't want to see me
So, grab everyone in your crew and disapeer like a genie
Never said I was the best but I ain't the one to be testin
Cross the line and in pieces you'll be destined
Don't stop, get it, get it
Cause I blow up the spot everytime I grab the mic and hit it, hit it

Chorus, Repeat 3X

Verse 1:
*singing* It's the roll of the dice
That you can't afford to lose
It's the nature of the business
It's the smugglers who lose
*rapping* I got a little proposition, homey, check it out, we gonna put it down
Cause you and I go way back, and I know you done been around
These peeps that I know done put me up on some shit
Nigga, we could all come up loc, we could all make grips
Now I ain't talkin bout no bullshit ass flippin z's
I'm talkin Trump type access, they comin off a gang of keys
Now what exscuse you got to play?
You got a wife and baby on the way?
Well, that makes it mo better
We gon work this shit together
We gonna stack enough loochie to get your girls gift from Gucci
And send your baby to college and ain't no gettin caught
Cause we gon use the type of knowledge that they never tripped off of befo
They ain't even ready for this hellified shit we got in sto (That's right)
And I done used the G to hook up that manpower
Shit have the okay to folks taught Pillsbury how to push flour
Now all we gotta do is make sure this shit go through, partna (Right)
Now call your crew, cause we got work to do
*talking* It's a fifty-fifty chance that you can get stuck
And then snake eyes are crafted, and we shit outta luck
*singing* It's the roll of the dice
That you can't afford to lose
*talking* But if we make this shit work the whole crew gon come up
With thousands in the Seiko's, Dane's, and fat pocketbooks.
*singing* It's the nature of the business
It's the smugglers who lose

Verse 2:
*rapping* Next level in the game, homey, it's time to get this shit movin
We went up fifty keys on ?speck? and now we got some shit to prove it (Right)
We got the contacts in Vegas that's where we go got our troops
They'll be the ones in the casino lines dressed in blue suits
And afta Shorty, Vic, and Spider done picked up the shit
They gon lay low a few days to make the trip look legit (That's right)
But, just in case them niggaz get any fucked up ideas
We gon send Wino and Big Homie to watch our back with the gear (Right)
And then them niggaz gonna take the midnight train to Dallas (Dallas)
We got to hook up them baggage plans to Ras Kass, Misses Alice
The cool thing about her is that if she get caught
It's still all in the family so she ain't gonna sell a nigga out
*talking*
Aight, then, maybe they should get a you-Haul pack that shit in a matress
*rapping*
Nah, they best go Greyhound, it's still the same as motherfuckin taxes
And all we gotta do is hold our breath about three more days
And cross our fingers, and hope nobody get popped along the way
*talking* You can make this quick lick and be set up for life
But if your ass get stuck, I hope it ain't your third strike
*singing* It's the roll of the dice
That you can't afford to lose
*talking* And them things you last expect, sometimes out there waitin
But I hope you understand if you caught then you ain't got shit to say
*singing* It's the nature of the business
It's the smugglers who lose
It's the roll of the dice
That you can't afford to lose
It's the nature of the business
It's the smugglers who lose

Verse 3:
*talking* Everything is goin according to plan
This shit is on its way to the man, to the man
Sit next to the goddamned man (Right)
But there's one thing you should know
There's some bustas on the bus talkin loud and drinkin and actin the fool,
That shit ain't cool (Say what?)
Now, I don't want to have to switch this loc
So, send some bodies to the next stop to get this under control
(They on they way)
But be aware that they all wearin navy uniforms
And they got medals and patches and shit, they think that say Desert Storm
And they got "Gung Ho" written all over they chest
So tell Lek Ratt, D-Dog, P.S. to wear they vest
It's gettin kinda cold out here so I'ma have to be gone
*sirens and helicopters*
Wait, here that? Oh, I think somethin wrong *gunshots*
What's Up? Baby, what's goin on, man? What! What the fuck happenin?
Aw, shit, my nigga, I'ma have to face shit
I think somebody set us up, there's feds all over the place
*rapping* That's the name of the game, that's the way the game go
Sometimes you rise high, and sometimes you sink low
*singing* It's the roll of the dice
That you can't afford to lose
*rapping* If you make it back to the hood then I'll see you around
But if they got somebody watchin, then stay your ass outta town
*singing* It's the nature of the business
It's the smugglers who lose
It's the roll of the dice
That you can't afford to lose
It's the nature of the business
It's the smugglers who lose
It's the roll of the dice
That you can't afford to lose