Butter

[Intro: Q-Tip]

-gy

[Verse 1: Phife Dawg]

1988, senior year at Garvey High

Where all the guys were corny, but the girls were mad fly

Lounging with the Tipster, cooling with Sha'

Scoping out the honeys—they know who they are

I was the b-ball playing, fly rhyme saying

Fly girl getting, but never was I sweating

'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 playing with my mind

The only thing I've learned is good girls are hard to find

I feel like Heavy D, I need "somebody for me"

Not someone whose mind is blank and tryna juice me for my banks

Swinging with my main man Lucky behind my back

What type of crap is that? Yo, how's about a smack?

Word life, I can't front, thought I was all that

But now it seems–I've met my match

I was a stone cold lover, you couldn't tell me jack

Settling down with one girl, wasn't trying to hear that

I had Tonya, Tamika, Sharon, Karen

Tina, Stacy, Julie, Tracy

Used to 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

But 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 trying to be a "Super Hoe"?

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]

Ayo, it's like butter, it's like butter, baby

It's like butter, it's like butter, baby

It's like butter, it's like butter, baby

It's like butter, it's like butter, baby

It's like butter, it's like butter, baby

It's like butter, like the butter, baby

Not no Parkay, not no margarine

Strictly butter, strictly butter, baby

[Verse 2: Phife Dawg]

I remember when girls were goodie two shoes, but now they turned to freaks

All of a sudden: ("We love you, Phife!") – ease off, ho–my name's Malik

"Phife this," "Phife that," "Where you going?" "Where you at?"

These girls don't know me from jack, yet I feel like 'The Mack'

You didn't want me then, so, yo, hon' – don't want me now

Here, here, take the towel–wipe off your brow

And take the contact out your eye, you're far from looking fly

You get an "E" for Effort, and "T" for nice Try

And, tell me, what's the reason for dying your hair?

Slum village gold still dangling in your ear

You barely have a neck, but still sporting 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 like 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

But 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 ask 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

Trying hard to look fly, but, yo, you're looking dumber

If I wanted someone like ya, I would've swung with Jaime Sommers

You wanna be "treated right"? See Father MC

Or check Ralph Tresvant, for "Sensitivity"

'Cause I am not the one, I got more game than Parker Brothers

Phife Dawg is on the mic, and I'm smooth like butter

[Outro: Gary Bartz sample]

"You know I like it when you say 'play it saxy for me'"

"You know I like it when you say 'play it saxy for me'"

"You know I like it when you say 'play it saxy for me'"

"You know I like it when you say 'play it saxy for me'"