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