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