Twerking Is Booty Dancing. Where’s My Cut?

I have a bone to pick with the wordsmiths at Oxford English Dictionary. Last month, they added “twerk” to their online edition. They define it as a verb that describes dancing to “popular music in a sexually provocative manner involving thrusting hip movements and a low, squatting stance.” Company spokeswoman Katherine Connor Martin told the Associated Press that “twerk” warranted an entry because it originated two decades ago and is now used by everybody.

Well, the Oxford peeps should have sought my consent. I pioneered the act of “twerking” long before it was created. I had a simpler definition: “Don’t stop, pop that p—y, let me see you doo doo brown.” Whenever girls heard me chant that at a concert, they shook their booties down to the floor. That’s why we called it booty music.

Back in the ’80s, mainstream America wasn’t ready for it. Some very powerful people tried hard to ban the music I was making because they couldn’t handle the sight of beautiful women dropping it low to the ground. I remember when 2 Live Crew performed on Phil Donahue’s show at the height of our controversy. I had our exotic dancers run down the aisle dressed in Daisy Duke shorts and bikini tops, booty-shaking for the audience. We left the crowd speechless. They didn’t know how to react.

Today, “twerking” has become socially acceptable. Performers are making hits from a dance this old-school artist originated. Just look at the success French Montana had with his single “Pop That,” which samples one of my songs. That was a clever move on his part, showing how entertainers rebrand things that another artist innovated more than a quarter-century ago.

Now everybody in America is “twerking.” Working-class women and their daughters exercise to “twerk-out” fitness videos. Female pop singers “twerk” at live performances.

I’m trying to figure out how I can get a cut of the action.

Follow Luke on Twitter: @unclelukereal1.