Where The Money Is

Last night my day, my dad came home. Said we gotta roam.
Head North to Ohio. His eyes were heavy and his voice,
His voice was low. Said we gotta go.
Where the money’s good.
Go gotta go where the money’s good. Watch that dough grow.
Go gotta go where the money is. Go gotta go watch that dough grow.
So I put on my favorite jeans and my pink backpack
And climbed into the Oldsmobile; sat on my mama’s lap.
Drove to the Rio Grand. All of us hand in hand.
Go gotta go where the money’s good. Watch that dough grow.
Go gotta go where the money is. Go gotta go watch that dough grow.
When we reached the boarder patrol they looked over in row.
Took our paper work and the hefty fee. Thank God, my
Dad worked his hands to the bone to give us a life of our own.
Go gotta go where the money’s good. Watch that dough grow.
Go gotta go where the money is. Go gotta go watch that dough grow.
Here I stand 20 years in my hands.
Babies born and a junkie wedding band.
But I am an American.
Yes I am an America.
Go gotta go where the money’s good. Watch that dough grow.
Go gotta go where the money is. Go gotta go watch that dough grow.