Just Another Day

I woke up one day in Vacaville

'Round the corner from the pen, fat house on the hill

All the homies in the pen straight locked down

But I gotta get dressed and hit the Oaktown

I called Randy Olson on the telephone

Early in the morning, but he still ain't home

So I called Ant Banks to see what's up

He said, "Meet me at the studio at 2 o'clock"

I got dressed, smoking on some serious dank

Grabbed my keys off the table and a big ol' bank

I hit Interstate 80 and I'm rolling

Joint's still burning and I'm smoking

I was on my way to San Jose

To the stereo shop that make my music play

'Cause one amp shut down, and the bass ain't playing

Didn't take long, for Joel and Janks to have me slumping

So I called up Boo, "What's up, nigga, what you bout to do?"

He said, "Just kicking back waiting on the fellas

'Bout to go eat at Della's"

I said, "It sure sounds good to me

I can't go though, gotta hit Myrtle Street"

Passed the acorns on my way, bitch, it's just another day

Everyday in the motherfucking Oaktown

Just another motherfucking day for $hort Dog, you know what I'm saying?

Roll up to the studio

Lay down some funky beats

Drink some of that Olde English

Smoke some fat ones

Fuck with my partner

Big Banks came through and started mixing

Sitting in the studio kick back listening

To some funky ass shit from the Dangerous Crew

Davey D came through with FM Blue

Shorty B rolled up smoking fat ones

Pee-Wee had a crew in the back room

Goldie had the tramps giving head, breaking off

Rappin' Ron and Diddley-Dog

Twin One and Two is telling stories

Bout beating down niggas for the glory

Had to catch a plane that night and roll out of town

Everybody getting high, trying hard to clown

I had to go shop before its time to leave

I dipped to the mall, flipped me some jeans

Rolled on out like a playa

Hot ass day, bitches everywhere

I'm leaning hard to the left like a big shot

Checking out the hoes seeing who'll get knocked

'Cause when you fuck with $hort, you get fucked quick

I run some drama on your ass and make ya suck dick

Ride through the OZ beaming it slow

Talking that shit how niggas on the four

Drive crazy, trying to tear up shit

It's just another day in Oakland, bitch

Yeah, them niggas from East Oakland be driving crazier than a motherfucker, man

Niggas over there on the 84 beaming niggas always talking about, uhh

"This how we drive on the '4, mayne, y'know"

Doing donuts and shit, running all up on the curb

Breaking up new cars and shit nigga

Really though though, that's some Oakland shit, bitch

It was me, Jacques, Beamin and Tilo

Boo-Kicky Slow-Motion and PO

Spud, Ju-Ju, Frog, and Big-E

Gettin' high on Orral Street

Bug, Joe-A, Ce-Ce and Mark

Rolling four deep from Sobrani Park

Howard came through from the B-Town

Motherfuckers getting high, it's going down

It's the same everyday, everyday it's the same

But that night we hit the hoop game

Who was playin? Seattle vs. Golden State

Hollered at the home boy Gary Payton

After the game, we went to his house

NBA Jams, turned us out

Niggas talking 'bout slamming bones

Any kinda way to get your gamble on

Bet, all you kept hearing was bet

Dice game on the pool table, fuck that shit

I ain't going outta town broke

I gotta have a bank, get some dank to smoke

Think I'm gamblin, you must be insane

It started getting late, I had to catch that plane

So I cut to the airport

Just another day for Too $hort

Yeah, I do that kind of shit, y'know, it ain't no thing but a chicken wing, little bitch

$hort Dog's in the motherfucking house

Kicking it with QDIII on the LA scene

Ain't no thing, baby, 'cause, uh

We coming up in the game that's how we do

We getting money, and we go here and there

And we clock the bank, you know what I'm saying? Bitch

I was high as fuck on the airplane

Thinkin to myself about a street gang

How a black man'll do you in a minute

Walk around the corner, see some shit and get in

How the police always tryin to catch us

Fell asleep and woke up in Houston, Texas

Gangsta-ass niggas from the Fifth and the Third

Take yo ass there, nigga, fuck what ya heard

Next night we did a show, in New Orleans

Same gangstas, same old scene

Yelling at Seventh at Ninth Ward

I see my homies from the Third and the Fourth

It was me Big Dog and the eight guard posse

Having fun and you just can't stop me

I did a show in Birmingham, Alabama

Then caught a plane in Atlanta

I heard about the motherfucking freaknick

Popped that pussy whole, fuck that weak shit

You shoulda seen all the bitches on the street

Niggas from Detroit was deep

All my partner from the 'O' flew up

And they was slanging that danky stuff

Getting high with some brothers from Miami and Cleveland

Kicking back talking 'bout we ain't leaving, bitch

We ain't going nowhere

We gonna stay here another day, y'know

It's just another day

Oh, you know

I guess I'll uh, get through and roll back to the Oaktown

Riding with the Cadillac Club or something, you know, F-R-O-G, old school

Too Clean in the house, biatch!

QDIII on the beat

I wanna say what's up to little Darrell

My partner D, what's up, D baby

All my partners in the pen

North County, Santa Rita

My brother Wayne Loc

It's just another day

Bitch