Sally Got a One Track Mind

[Produced by Diamond D] [Hook] Sally got a one track mind It doesn't matter if it's yours or mine Cause if ya getting dough and you wanna get with her Yeah (YOU CAN HIT HER!) [Verse 1] I knew a girl named Sally who's tastes were exquisite Saks Fifth Avenue, bad made or is it? When she was a child, her parents had money She was spoiled rotten, and how things has gotten Worse, she's a professional (uhh!) She'll start to switch if her palms begin to itch I watched her grow into a neighborhood ho Ran around town with every Tom, Dick, and Joe Quite amusing, but little did she know That word got around that Sally was down Sweet 16 but she looked 21 If the price was right, she'll be twice as nice Dissed her friends for a man in a Benz Then he cuts you off when he hits the skins Now you got another one, he drives a Beamer Wake up girl, don't be a day dreamer [Hook] [Verse 2] Sally's 19, and nothing has changed She's on the prowl, her lifestyle's foul See her at the clubs, sipping on a drink Playin herself in her girlfriend's mink Talkin about ("Look at him, he's cute") Thinkin to yourself does he have any loot The guy walks up and he says hello The lights are dim and the mood is mellow They talked for a few, she grabs her coat Told her girlfriends "don't rock the boat" Her girlfriend said "don't go, you just met him" Knowing all along that Sally's gonna let him Knock the boots from the bed to the floor But Sally doesn't think that she's living like a whore You little hooker, queen of the stunts You better wake up and smell the blunt [Hook] [Verse 3] 21 years old and you have a son On ya own you don't know which one to blame There's no shame in ya game People know ya name from ya neighborhood fame Bronx, Manhattan, Brooklyn, Staten Black, Jamaican, Italian, Latin There is no end to you list of men And everybody know's how ya love to bend Now you're gettin older and you care about your rep You're still a hottie butcha try to watch your step Never been in love, always been an object Pretty young thing growing up in the projects I remember when you used to play in the grass Didn't have breasts, didn't have a... Became a slave to material things And now you snack on four chicken wings Chorus