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 . . .