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 Often 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 two o'clock

I got dressed, smoking on some serious dank

Grabbed my keys off the table and a big old bank

I hit Interstate eighty 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 James to have me slumping

So I called up Boo, what's up, ****, what you 'bout to do?

He said, kicking back, just 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

Every day in the motherfuckin' Oaktown

Just another motherfuckin' day for $hort dog, you know what I'm sayin'?

Roll up to the studio

Lay down some funky beats

Drink some of that old english

Smoke some fat ones

Fuck with my partner

Big Banks came through and started mixing

Sitting in the studio, kicked back, listening

To some funky ass shit from the dangerous crew

Davie D came through, with F and  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 **** 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 player

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 'bout **** on the four

Drive crazy, trying to tear up shit

It's just another day in Oakland, bitch

Yeah, them **** straight east side

Be drivin' crazier than a motherfucker, man

**** all down eighty-four, beamer **** always talkin' about, uh

This how we drive on the four, man, you know

Doin' donuts and shit

Runnin' all up on the curb

Breakin' up new cars and shit, ****

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

It was me, Jaque, Beamin and Tilo

Boo-Kicky, Slow Motion and PO

Spud, Ju-Ju, Frog and Big-E

Getting high on Orral Street

Bug, Joe Right, Ce-Ce and Mark

Rolling four deep from Sobrante 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 playing, Seattle verse Golden State

Hollered at the home boy, Gary Payton

After the game, we went to his house

NBA Jams, turned us out

**** 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 gambling, 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 did that kind of shit, you know

It ain't no thing but a chicken wing, little bitch

$hort dog's in the motherfuckin' house

Kickin' it with QD three on the LA scene

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

We comin' up in the game, that's how we do

We gettin' 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

Thinking to myself 'bout street game

How a black man'll do you in a minute

Walk around the corner, see some shit and get in it

How the police always trying to catch us

Fell asleep and woke up in Houston, Texas

Gangster ass **** from the fifth and the third

'Take your ass there, ****, fuck what ya heard

Next night we did a show, in New Orleans

Same gangsters, same old scene

Yellin' 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 airplane to Atlanta

I heard about the motherfuckin' freak nick

Popped that pussy ho, fuck that weak shit

You shoulda seen all the bitches on the street

**** from Detroit was deep

All my partners from the O flew up

And they was slanging that danky stuff

Getting high with some brothers from Miami and Cleveland

Kickin' back, talkin' 'bout we ain't leaving, bitch

We ain't goin' no where

We gonna stay here another day, you know

It's just another day

Oh, you know

I guess I, uh, get through and, uh, roll back to the O town

Ride with the Cadillac club or somethin', you know

F R O G, old school

Too clean in the house, bitch

QD three on the beat

I wanna say what's up to Lil Doug

My partner B, what's up, B, baby

All my partners in the pen

North County

Santa Rita

My brother, Wayne Lowe

It's just another day

Bitch