verse 1 
6th grade, I remember my first dance 
Steady searching through the mix for a slowdance 
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 [bad word] and displayed feathers like a peacock 
They did the Funky Chicken, I learned the Dirty Bird, 
Cause the Atlanta Falcons did it in the endzone 
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 

Verse 2 
Your body is a temple 
My body circus ring trying to hold itself up like a tentpole 
every [bad word] 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 Halllujah! 
Until a hater chaperone came and made room for God 
It's all good though 
Turn the anger into energy and passion tlll 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