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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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