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butter (hip hop mix) - a tribe called quest lyrics

[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 hеart, i knew that flo was good to go
’cause “i thought it was me,” likе bell biv devoe
but little did i know that she was playing 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 whose mind is blank and tryna juice me for my banks
swinging with my main man lucky behind my back
what type of cr*p 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 ho?
she finally played me, but yo, i’d find another
’cause i got the crazy game and yo, i’m smooth like b*tter
[chorus: q*tip]
ayo, it’s like b*tter, it’s like b*tter, baby
it’s like b*tter, it’s like b*tter, baby
it’s like b*tter, it’s like b*tter, baby
it’s like b*tter, it’s like b*tter, baby
it’s like b*tter, it’s like b*tter, baby
it’s like b*tter, like the b*tter, baby
not no parkay, but the b*tter, baby
it’s like b*tter, it’s like b*tter, baby
it’s like b*tter, like the b*tter, baby
not no parkay, not no margarine
strictly b*tter, strictly b*tter, baby

[verse 2: phife dawg]
i remember when girls were goodie two shoes, but now they turned to freaks
all of a sudden – […]
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
hear, hear – 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
now 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 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 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 fake 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
trying hard to look fly, but yo, you’re looking dumber
if i wanted someone like you, 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 b*tter
[outro: eighties ladies sample, q*tip]
“i… turned on to you”
b*tter! (b*tter!)
“i… turned on to you”
b*tter! (b*tter!)
“i… turned on to you”
b*tter! (b*tter!)
“i… turned on to you”
b*tter! (b*tter!)
“i… turned on to you”
b*tter! (b*tter!)
“i… turned on to you”
b*tter! (b*tter!)

- a tribe called quest lyrics

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