We got style.
Tape on our glasses, zits on our faces and hair on our asses.
Shiny shoes, belt buckles and pocket protectors.
Tricked out back packs like my main man Venkman's.
We got problems, namely the jocks.
The SUV suckers with class rings on their cocks.
Otherwise known as the motherfuckers touchin' the tit.
If I was wolverine, you'd hear my knuckles go snikt.
I'm not perfect, the b4 picture of Peter Parker.
I always trip and drop my tray in front of the girl that always sparkles.
I got brains, fuck B's and C's.
I got a grade point average higher than Hendrix on New Year's Eve.

chorus repeat

Don't fuck with a geek, just 'cause he got a gift.
You get in my way bitch you get a Vulcan neck pinch.
One night I didn't go to sleep, up playin' Risk.
At dawn, I won, got global dominance.
But it in the hallway it's completely different shit.
Can't get my locker open and my pants are always split.
Can't seem to catch a ride, can't ever get a date.
But in my mind 7 of 9 thinks I'm great.
Prom night bites, primadonnas prevail.
I'm at home reciting lines from the Holy Grail.
Stuffed nose, and some swollen glands.
Never, been kissed, never been holding hands.
Just, bust my biscuits over Britney in a bubble bath.
Darth Vader with inhalers, in case my lungs collapse.
The dragon died from a heart attack
You may advance and yo, I upped your armor class.
Being a geek, it aint so bad.
I can't get laid, I got Japanime stashed.
And a mind jam packed with sci-fi facts.
Dreadnoks rocked, Dynobots kick ass.

chorus repeat