paroles de chanson Butter - A Tribe Called Quest
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
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
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
trying
to
juice
me
for
my
banks
Swinging
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
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
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
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
butter
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,
Strickly
butter
baby,
strictly
butter
baby
I
remember
when
girls
were
goodie
two
shoes
but
now
they
turned
to
freaks
All
of
a
sudden
("We
love
you
Phife")
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
Here,
Here
- 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
Phife
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
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
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
Dog
is
on
the
mic
and
I′m
smooth
like
butter
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