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 downBut 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 motherfuckin 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 Short 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 talkin bout slammin bones
Any kinda way to get your gamble on
Bet, all you kept hearin was bet
Dice game on the pool table, fuck that shit
I ain't goin outa town broke
I gotta have a bank, get some dank to smoke
Think I′m gamblin, you must be insane
It started gettin late I had to catch that plane
So I cut to the airport
Just another day for Too Short
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 sayin? 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
Gettin 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
