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