Butter (Edit) Lyrics

1988, Senior year at Garvey High
Where all the guys were corny but the girls were mad fly
Loungin' with the Tipster, coolin' with Sha
Scopin' out the honies, 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 honies I would go on a stroll
Until I met my match, her name was Flow
Yeah, I messed around with the one called Flow
All the troopers 'round the way used to call her a ho
But deep down in my heart I knew that Flow 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'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 tryin' to juice me for my banks
Swingin' 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
Settlin' down with one girl? Wasn't tryin' to hear that
I had Tanya, 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 Flow, 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 super ho
She finally played me, but yo, I'd find another
'Cause I've got the crazy game and yo, I'm smooth like butter

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

I remember when girls were goody two-shoes
But now they turned to freaks, all of a sudden
You're like, "P, ease off, 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 yo, hon, don't want me now
Hear, hear, take the towel, wipe off your brow
And take the contact out your eye, you're far from lookin' 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 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 liked 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 bullshittin', 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 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 would've swung with Jamie 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