The girls in my dance floor are full up
We are tracking things that make the dancers turn up
And they know what we're about to cut them dark and corrupt
But we pray for every day for it to be Friday
Friday, Friday
This year we want what we do by day
By day
Tell them we wicked and wild and sick of the migraine when she defy
A cycle that never give out and we the way at the back of the line
So follow me now now, follow me now now now now
And up and down upon the microphone now
Tell them we wicked and wild and sick of the migraine when she defy