6th grade, I remember my first dance
Steady searching through the mix for a slow dance
Like the marshmallow pieces in the Lucky Charms
'Cause that's golden your opportunity for romance
But on the fast songs the numbers between
That's when you get to show the lovely ladies what you mean
It's when the fella's preen watch me C-Walk
How I strutted and displayed feathers like a peaco*k
They did the Funky Chicken, I learned the Dirty Bird,
'Cause the Atlanta Falcons did it in the end zone
After every touchdown
It didn't help me score, did it at the dances
And it put me in the friend zone
And if I went home, with my head down
I lift my chin up
Then put it down again
Up again
Down again
Up again
Down again
Now I'm headbanging to the brand new sound again
Your body is a temple
My body is a circus ring trying to hold itself up like a tentpole
Every instrumental makes my pencil neck
Snap back fast until I'm going mental
Some call it grinding, some call it bumping
But in the Bay we had a funny way of speaking
In San Francisco, we're the kids of hippies
Just a bunch of geeks so we called it freaking
In 6th grade, freaked with a 8th hottie
Named Janny and I sang Kumbaya Amen Hallelujah!
Until a hater chaperone came and made room for God
It's all good though
Turn the anger into energy and pa**ion till I'm burning like a wood stove
I do Liquid and the Fireball
the only raver moves I know
But I'm putting on a good show