Lyrical Breakdown of Tell The Feds - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Tell The Feds" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Too Short weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Tell The Feds" is a testament to masterful songwriting.
• Rhyme and Rhythm Analysis: Our Lazyjot editor highlights the ingenious use of multi-syllabic rhymes and the rhythm pattern that Too Short employs. Understand the construction of each verse and how it contributes to the song's overall impact.
• Syllable Pattern Insights: Dive deeper into the structural elements of the lyrics. See how the syllable count varies across the song, adding a unique rhythm and flow to Too Short's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Tell The Feds" not only celebrates Too Short's artistic prowess but also serves as an educational tool for aspiring songwriters. If this analysis inspires you and you'd like to see your own songs analyzed in this way, join the Lazyjot community. Register at Lazyjot and start exploring the full potential of your lyrical creativity. Turn your thoughts into rhymes and your rhymes into songs with Lazyjot!

And it don't stop to the beat, baby Funky Fresh on the microphone One time for your mind, beeyatch (Beeyatch) $hort Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house Doin' what we always do, a stack (Gettin' money) Gettin' money (Gettin' money) 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 $hort, tell 'em) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin' no coke factory (Ooh) 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 red handed A felony, strike number two Federal Agents like, "What you wanna do?" Make a choice, so you start to think back $hort 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 dope house dumpin' the crack My niggas wouldn't do it, I love 'em for that 'Cuz 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 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 $hort, tell 'em) I used to sell weed in high school, smoked the profit I never sold company due, I can't knock it Cuz 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 jeopardize my freedom You never could make me realize 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 Tell the Feds we ain't runnin' no coke factory (All you motherfuckers is lookin' at us rock jewelry and shit That's all you are) Tell the Feds we ain't runnin' no coke factory (Somebody better tell 'em we got receipts) 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 millennium 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 before 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 through the ghetto I'm probably on my way to the studio Probably playin' somethin' loud on the stereo $hort Dogg, don't forget the funk motto 'Free your mind and your ass will follow' Tell the Feds we ain't runnin' no coke factory (We're up y'all in this motherfuckin') holdin' tank Sor 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.) Pop this shit, be outta state, niggas is hella fake Moms ain't mess with the motherfuckin' phone My girl, she's fuckin' up, goddamn 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 Oh ain't no way we runnin' no coke factory we just selling records man I know we sit up in the studio every night making fuckin tracks They know what time it is men They know we the nations wildest making that fuckin ass rap music Making this hoe's panties wet Play this with your bitch in the car nigga yh I said bitch (byache) Nigga we real player don't bite your tongue Bitch understand when you playing some real shit you riding and your woof is boomping nigga Turn this shit up louder