|
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 whos 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 cant front - thought I was all that But now it seems, I met my match Was a stone cold lover, you couldnt tell me jack Settlin down with one girl, wasnt 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 Im all true man, like alexander oneal 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, Id find another Cause I got the crazy game and yo, Im smooth like butter
Chorus: q-tip
Butter, like butter baby . . . 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 names malik Phife this, phife that, where you goin, where you at These girls dont know me from jack, yet I feel like the mack You didnt want me then, so hon, dont want me now Here, here - take the towel, wipe off your brow And take the ccontact out your eye, youre far from lookin fly You get an e for effort, and t for nice try Now tell me whats 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, didnt 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 wouldnt have dissed ya But since it was bought, I had to dismiss ya If you cant achieve it, then why not try and weave it If you cant extend it then you might as well suspend it If you cant 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 cant stand, no bionic lady Tryin hard to look fly, but yo, youre 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 Im smooth like butter . . .
no not no parkay NOT no MARGARINE STRICTLY BUTTER BABY STRICTLY BUTTER Have a nice day R.I.P. Martin alexander (Marty Gra) Alston - my brother, my mentor , my friend-
|