So, I wake up and I put Nirvana on Head backwards and I grab my bomb First thing first and the Gameboy on Game Genie cause I'm fuckin' bombed I live that baggy t-shirt, dirty sneakers dang Reefo, Weezer, Beasties, I like guys who beater rides and bloodshot eyes I grew up with a cool big brother, played in bands and he'd stay all summer Sometimes he'd lend me records like Green Day or the Chili Peppers You can buy me humming Smash Mouth, talk shit and then knock your ass down Hell yeah, we fuckin' freaks, me and all my friends got 88 Ripped jeans, vinyl shirts, so grimy We are the children of the 1990s We live this shit, don't kill my team spirit We are the children of the 1990s We are the children of the 1990s Ball with a ball to bang, I'm so raw Wanna get down, gotta zag-a-zag, ah I'm pretty fly for white girl, right? No clothes in Tommy, stay out all night I want that Zack Morris, Nick Carter, Kurt Cobain I want those chucks and that flannel tied around my waist Grew up on an island in the sun Tourist kids, they would go and come Sometimes they'd leave me CD Sugar Ray with some shady LP I'd show up and I'd crash a sofa Pop champagne like a supernova, fuck it Let's party like it's 1990, 1990 Ripped jeans, vinyl shirts, so grimy We are the children of the 1990s We live this shit, don't kill my team spirit We are the children of the 1990s We are the children of the 1990s If you want me, you can hit me on my pager I don't take no emails, you can send that shit on paper If you need me, you can call me on my house phone If I'm busy, then you go and get the dial tone Ripped jeans, vinyl shirts, so grimy We are the children of the 1990s We live this shit, don't kill my team spirit We are the children of the 1990s We are the children of the 1990s We are the children of the 1990s