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Butter lyrics


Verse One: Phife Dawg
1988 Senior Year, Garvey High
Where all the guys were corny but the girls were mad fly
Loungin with the Tipster, Coolin with Sha
Scopin out the honeys - they know who they are
I was the b-ball playin fly rhyme sayin
Fly girl gettin but never was I sweatin
Cause when it came to honeys I would go on a stroll
Until I met my match - her name was Flo
Yeah - I messed around with the one called Flo
All the troopers round the way used to call her a ho
But deep down in my heart I knew that Flo was good to go
Cause I thought it was me - like Bell Biv Devoe
But little did I know that she was playin with my mind
The only thing I learned is, good girls are hard to find
I feel like Heavy D I need somebody for me
Not someone who s mind is blank and tryin to juice me for my bank
Swingin with my main man Lucky behind my back
What type of crap is that - yo, hows about a smack?
Word life, I can t front - thought I was all that
But now it seems, I met my match
Was a stone cold lover, you couldn t tell me jack
Settlin down with one girl, wasn t tryin to hear that
I had Tonya, Tamika, Sharon, Karen
Tina, Stacy, Julie, Tracy
Used ta love em, leave em, skeeze em, tease em
Find em, lose em - also abuse em
My whole attitude was new day, next hon
And believe it or not, they all got done
Well here comes Flo, with the crazy whip appeal
And I m all true man, like Alexander O Neal
Is this really love, then again, how would I know
After all this time tryin to be a superhoe
She finally played me, but yo, I d find another
Cause I got the crazy game and yo, I m smooth like butter
Chorus: Q-Tip
Butter, like butter baby . . . [repeat 2X]
Not no Parkay, not no margarine,
Strickly butter baby, strictly butter

Verse Two: Phife Dawg
I remember when,
Girls were goodie two shoes, but now they turned to freaks
Allofasudden "We love you Phife" - ease of ho, my name s Malik
Phife this, Phife that, where you goin , where you at
These girls don t know me from jack, yet I feel like the Mack
You didn t want me then, so hon, don t want me now
Here, Here - take the towel, wipe off your brow
And take the Ccontact out your eye, you re far from lookin fly
You get an E for effort, and T for nice try
Now tell me what s the reason, for dyin your hair
Slum village gold still danglin in your ear
You barely have a neck but still sportin a rope
Four-finger ring just so Phifer can scope
You looked in the mirror, didn t know what to do
Yesterday your eyes were brown but today they are blue
Your whole appearance is a lie and it could never be true
And if you really loved yourself then you would try and be you
If your hair and eyes were real, I wouldn t have dissed ya
But since it was bought, I had to dismiss ya
If you can t achieve it, then why not try and weave it
If you can t extend it then you might as well suspend it
If you can t braid it, best thing to do is fade it
I asked who did your hair and you tell me "Diane made it"
If you were you and just you, talk to you, maybe
But I can t stand, no bionic lady
Tryin hard to look fly, but yo, you re lookin dumber
If I wanted someone like you I woulda swung with Jamie Summers
You wanna be treated right, see Father MC
Or check Ralph Tresvant, for sens-a-tiv-i-ty
See I am not the one, I got more game than Parker Brothers
Phife Dog is on the mic and I m smooth like Butter . . .
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