Soul on Ice can refer to:
Soul On Ice is a memoir and collection of essays by Eldridge Cleaver. Originally written in Folsom State Prison in 1965, and published three years later in 1968, it is Cleaver's best known writing and remains a seminal work in African-American literature. The treatises were first printed in the nationally-circulated monthly Ramparts and became widely read (even praised by Norman Mailer) for their illustration and commentary on "Black America." Throughout his narrative, Cleaver describes not only his transformation from a marijuana dealer and serial rapist into a convinced Malcolm X adherent and Marxist revolutionary, but also his analogous relationship to the politics of America.
Eldridge Cleaver was born in Wabbaseka, Arkansas, in 1935, amidst the severe and unrepentant racism of the South. In 1946, his family moved to Watts, California, where, although the racial climate was not as acute, the young Cleaver began delving into petty crime. After a series of arrests throughout his adolescence, in 1954, he was sent to Soledad State Prison for possession of marijuana. Though he was released within two years, later in 1957, he was convicted of sexual assault with intent to murder and was subsequently sent to San Quentin and then onto Folsom.
Soul On Ice is the critically acclaimed debut album by West Coast emcee Ras Kass, released on October 1, 1996, under Priority Records. The album was produced by Ras Kass, as well as DJ Battlecat, Vooodu, Bird, Michael Barber, Michael Schlesinger, and Reno Delajuan. Fellow West Coast rapper Coolio makes the only guest appearance on the album on the song "Drama." The album's title is a reference to Black Panther member Eldridge Cleaver's 1968 book Soul On Ice.
Two charting singles were released from the album, "Anything Goes" and "Soul on Ice."
It has been praised for its complex lyricism and lush production.
The Source magazine noted in 1996, that Ras Kass was "the West Coast's answer to Nas".
Anything Goes
Reelishymn
Drama
It was a Saturday night on the streets of Cali
Threw on my dope silk suit, brushed off my suede
Bally's
Threw on enough gold for any girl's pleasure
Left a pound and a half of that shit still in the
dresser
I slapped a clip in my nine, threw a clip in my sock
Hit three grand up off the dresser, it was ten on the
Now my beeper started beepin, I threw that shit in the
sink
I didn't need it no more, I had more money than Prince
See, I was quittin the game and tonight was my fling
You see, on the streets they're players but only one
king
Now that's the title I held but the game is real fast
You gotta get in and get out if you expectin to last
Now my homeboy Evil was downstairs chillin in his brand
new Benz
I had many adversaries but very few close friends
We broke to the set, E parked the car on the grass
High-signin was his trademark and he did it with class
Hit the door like two titans, the whole jam stopped to
stare
And as we walked through the crowd they threw bills in
the air
I spied my man Jazz maxin out with two stone cold
freaks
"Yo, what's up Ice, you rich now, man, you too good to
speak?"
Now Jazz was a player from the east coast, the Bronx
He was known to be hard on the women and a brother he'd
stomp
Smack a bitch in a minute, some say just for fun
And he was known for his chrome-plated pearl-handled
"Yo Ice, you my brother and I love you and all
But what's up with that six g's you owe me, man
'member when your boys took that fall?
And I posted the bail cause yo ass was locked up"
Evil gave Jazz ten g's and Jazz shut the fuck up
Just then I saw Donald-D hit the front door
More gold than a Aztec, black leather he wore
Hoes grabbed for they niggaz when D hit the set