I woke up one day in Vacaville
Round the corner from the pen, phat 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 Austin 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 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
Every day in the motherfucking Oaktown, just another motherfucking day for Short Dog, you know what I’m saying?
Roll up to the studio, lay down some funky beats
Drink some of that Old English, smoke some fat ones, fuck wit 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 mothafucker man
Niggas over there on 84 beamin niggas always talkin about uhh: “This how we
Drive on the ‘4 mayne, y’know.” Doing donuts and shit, running all up on the curb
Breaking up news cars and shit nigga. 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-A, Ce-Ce and Mark
Rolling four deep from Sobrante Park
Howard came through from the B-Town
Motherfuckas 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 versus 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 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 Short
Yeah I do that kind of shit y’know, it ain’t no thing but a chicken wing little bitch. Short 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
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
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 Apgar posse
Having fun and you just can’t stop me
I did a show in Birmingham, Alabama
Then caught an airplane in Atlanta
I heard about the motherfucking freaknick
Popped that pussy ho, fuck that weak shit
You shoulda seen all the bitches on the street
Niggas 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
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, guess I’ll uhhhh, get through and roll back to the Oak-town
Ridin 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
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