Artist: Too $hort Album: Rush Hour soundtrack Song: Tell the Feds Typed by: firstname.lastname@example.org Intro: And it don't stop to the beat, baby Funky Fresh on the microphone One time for your mind, beeyatch (Beeyatch) Short Dogg's in the motherfuckin house doin what we always do, a stack (Gettin money) Gettin money (Gettin money) Chorus: Too $hort, (Slink Capone) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (Fuck a secret indictment, all I do is write shit) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (You got the wrong rappers, nigga you better tell em!!) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (Tell em Short, tell em!!!) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (OOOOOHHHHH!!!!!) Verse One: You broke the law, and you got caught Got a good lawyer, case is bein fought Life is full of choices, make em at the crossroads If you had five, you already lost four Straight apprehended, handcuffed and can't stand it Don't wanna go to jail but you was caught redhanded A felony, strike number two Federal Agents like, "What you wanna do?" Make a choice, so you start to think back Short Dogg was a nigga that always rapped Half my life ago, didn't sell no dope I sold dope fiend music for your stereo Sittin at the crossroads in '84 I knew hella motherfuckers that was slangin coke Use to tell my homeboys, front me a sack Postin me at the dopehouse dumpin the crack My niggas wouldn't do it, I love em for that cos now I still rap and get paid to gat Since '87, that's how the shit comes We made two hundred thousand in six months Sellin tapes not cakes, cheques kept comin Fuck buyin *?boats?*, niggas makin hundreds Legit, you think I'm stupid, bitch I bought a studio so I can do this shit Chorus: Too $hort, (Slink Capone) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (You got it twisted, Bridget Why pressin charges when I'm depressin hard and shit) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (Run tell em, tell em Short, tell em) Verse Two: I used to sell weed in high school, smoked the profit I never sold *?company due?*, I can't knock it cos the inner city public school system is fucked Go to class all day, you ain't gettin enough So at 3:15 it's time to put in work Buy you some dope and go hit the turf Ain't no scholarship, no rap contract but a nigga get paid sellin hop and crack I got lucky, it's not a get-rich scheme I've been sellin rap tapes since I was 15 I told the Oakland police, too many times I make a lot of money doin pimp rhymes I never sell drugs to jeopardise my freedom You never could make me realise I need em I went from hundreds, to hundreds to thousands, to millions I know what police want, I feel em I'm always ballin right there in the hype Instantly, dope dealer stereotype but shit is serious, I know I never sold drugs so why these motherfuckers tryin ta roll me up? And smoke me, why? No one knows The only thing I did wrong was fuck all ya hoes I don't smoke coke blunts and sho' don't sell em Call the FBI, somebody please tell em Chorus: Too $hort, (Slink Capone) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (All you motherfuckers is lookin at us rock jewelery and shit That's all you are) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (Somebody better tell em we got receipts) Verse Three: Rap is brand new, not long ago Made a billion dollars last year round the globe Now all the little kids can't let it go to the new millenium with a brand new flow Too $hort baby straight from the O If you're like me, you're tryin ta make some doe Roll to the spot and try ta break a hoe Pimp her real hard and then take it slow When I rap to a bitch, I'm a pro I spit this game like never befo' Grab the microphone and always rock the show then I grab me a freak, tell her "Keep it on the low" If I take her to my house she won't say no I burn rubber with the bitch in my fo'-fifty-fo' California niggas drop the top and roll Stare up at the mountains, won't see no snow I go coast to coast smokin indo If my bitch actin up, I fuck her friend so don't investigate me for sellin dope If you see me rollin clean thru the ghetto I'm probably on my way to the studio Probably playin somethin loud on the stereo Short Dogg, don't forget the funk motto: 'Free your mind and your ass will follow' Chorus: Too $hort, (Slink Capone) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (We're up y'all in this motherfuckin holdin tank for hidin snitch ass niggas) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin no coke factory (Nigga, I was promoted a tour of Kentucky nigga, and D.C.) Outro: Slink Capone Pop this shit, be outta state, niggas is hella fake Moms ain't mess with the motherfuckin phone My girl, she's fuckin up, god damn! Nigga you better stop all that motherfuckin snitchin Tell them motherfuckers we ain't runnin no motherfuckin coke factory Tell em, tell em!! TELL EM!!! YOU BETTER TELL EM!!!! Let em know, TELL EM!!!!