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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!!!!

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!!!!

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