Dance With Me

Get your hands up

The sky's falling

Get your hands up

It's the apocalypseGot a mouth full of lambs blood

Dam broke down

The whole town flooded

Your man couldn't cut itGot his fake ass gutted

He muttered something monotoned

Under his breath

Now he's out first roundWith his hand on his chest

Must have been a cardiac

Now he's searching for his Pontiac

To get back to a bar attack

To brush up on his battle rapWe hit the high hats and make it clap

We wear plaid after labor day and still get ass

We're high-class, low brow, over bomb beats

Cloggin' more ateries than the drive-through at Arby'sSingin', I love Rock 'n' Roll

So put another dime in the jukebox, baby

I love Rock 'n' Roll

Put another dime and dance with me!Get your hands clappin'

The aliens have landed

Get your hands clappin'

Damn, I'm dopeBeen rockin' since a zygote

It won't stop the price crossers opening for my ghost

'Cause everybody knows that I've been backin' the fans

My rhymes touch more kids than Micheal Jackson's handsI'm iller than thriller

Stiffer than a zombie

Gagged with Abercrombie while your girl rides up on me

And I'm callin' up your sister and we're cuddling to AmelieOh, so you think you can rap

So you walk eight miles and you think you can rap

That's cuter than the Olsen pre-dope but your crack

Or havin' a teddy bear tattooed up on your backSingin', I love rock 'n' roll

So put another dime in the jukebox, baby

I love rock 'n' roll

Put another dime and dance with me

Songwriters

Nathaniel Motte;Sean ForemanPublished by

MASTER FALCON MUSIC;DICK JAMS Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.