Some might say that my funds are short But everything belongs to me 'cos I am poor Got my degree in sleeping on the floor Wonder if you have a little hi-fi at home Uh baby, it ain't that good All across the country to your neighborhood Not the fame, it's understood On and on we gotta rock for food Mom is sad 'cos the kids ain't back Weather man painted skies in black Sit here at my van-burg throne land grows Windscreen is a mirror to the driver's soul Uh baby, it ain't that good All across the country to your neighborhood Not the fame, it's understood On and on we gotta rock for food Uh baby, it ain't that good All across the country to your neighborhood Bon voyage, les jeunes fait la route All in all we gotta rock for food